Sold
by Mondie
Summary: The frat Lambda Delta Lambda has a tradition of participating in an annual auction. With a flash of sequins and a wad of cash, this year's spectacle becomes the start of the rest of their lives. (Slash. Swearing. Drinking. Adultery. Debauchery. Indeed.)
1. Prologue

Prologue: Meeting the Boys

Written: March 11, 2005

"You _will_ listen to me. You will. Hel_lo_. I'm _talking_. You _will_ listen to me. Guys, shut up. Hel_loooooo_. Me. Sitting here in the front of the room. Your president. Listen to me."

The other brothers either did not notice or did not care about Cowboy's repeated pleas. Racetrack especially seemed worked up, as he loudly told the story of how his gambling seminar had come up with the conclusion that gambling was the worst pastime in the world. "What the hell do those hicks know about gambling?" he shouted, his thick New York accent making his words seem even harsher. "Half the class ain't even been in a casino. They don't know what the hell they're talking about. Stupid dumb bitches."

"Hel_lo_, _lis_ten to me. Hi, I'm Mr. President, and I'd like to speak now. You _are_ going to listen to me. Goddammit, you guys, just _shut the hell up!_" Cowboy stood up out of his chair and stomped his foot in fury, glowering at the assembled group. They fell silent. Slightly embarrassed, he sat back down.

Racetrack looked over at him, raising his eyebrows. "Get a grip, Cowboy," he said. "It ain't the end of the world, ya know."

Cowboy could only muster up a glare. "Racetrack, we've been here for two and a half hours already. I have homework, you know."

"And I got a stupid-ass seminar that don't know nothing about gambling! Looks like we all got problems, 'ey, fellas?" Everyone laughed as they agreed, then continued their previous conversations.

Cowboy stared around the room in revulsion. He knew it had been a bad idea to run for president of Lambda Delta Lambda, but somewhere, deep down – _very _deep down – he actually was quite fond of his brothers. The boys were just now strewn about the living room of their frat house. Snitch and Itey were sharing the armchair, their arms carelessly entwined around each other. Racetrack was sitting on the coffee table just in front of Cowboy's chair with his back to Cowboy, effectively cutting him off from the room. Dutchy was sprawled on the couch, with his head on Specs' lap and his feet on Swifty's. David – who had never gotten an official fraternity name when a pledge, and by now no one remembered why not – was lying spread-eagle on the floor between the armchair and the couch. Sitting in the window seat was Crutchy, staring out the window. Pie Eater and Snoddy were sitting quietly in the corner, with their foreheads touching, whispering back and forth with each other. Snipeshooter stood on his head with his back against the wall right next to the door. Bumlets was sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table, leaning casually against Racetrack's legs; Racetrack kept getting excited and kicking his legs out enthusiastically, though, at which point Bumlets would just turn around and glare at him. Kid Blink, who wasn't even a brother but hung around enough to be the frat's sole social member, was sitting on a school-issued, uncomfortable wooden chair against the back wall, but his boyfriend, Mush (who _was_ a member of the frat) was making him feel better about his lack of enjoyable seating by giving him a sort of inconspicuous lap-dance.

Cowboy closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall behind his stool. He thought for a second of the mound of homework sitting upstairs in his room, and decided he had had enough. Their frat meetings last year, when Denton was the president, had lasted twenty minutes, tops. This year, the weekly rendezvous had become ridiculously long. Hours upon hours every Sunday night were now spent in this same idiotic fashion. Part of it was Cowboy's own fault, which he was well aware of. He just could not find it in him to yell at his friends and make them shut up. So far, in two and a half hours, they had covered the first two points of his bulleted legal pad list. …Out of sixteen.

"Fine, you know what? Just fuck around," he finally said, getting to his feet once more and gesticulating like a slightly insane person. "There's a picnic we're supposed to be co-hosting, some stuff about budget to cover, the stupid Delt auction that Crutchy signed us all up for is next week, we really should talk about throwing a campus party sometime soon, and I was going to talk about how we might be able to convince the campus to get us some actually decent showers with good water pressure, but you know what? You guys don't seem to care about that at all. So screw you, I have two papers to write tonight. You guys are dicks."

He was about to storm out, when Mush stopped grinding on Blink and turned in surprise. "Wait, what auction thing?" Blink let out a squeak of protest, which Mush squelched by turning and planting himself in Blink's lap. "You don't mean the same auction thing we did last year, do you?"

Crutchy's attention was now turned from the weather outside. "It is a firm tradition," he said with haughty self-importance. "Lambda after Lambda have gone through the auction. All five of my older brothers did it, and they had great times doing it, too."

"Why is it that whenever you come up with a stupid idea, it's because your brothers did it when they were in the frat?" demanded David. "I mean, it's great and all that, like, your entire family have connections to the frat. But how are we supposed to become our own entity as a group if we're just trying to emulate your older brothers?"

"The proceeds are going to the tsunami relief fund," Crutchy said, completely ignoring David, which everyone in the room had expected. Crutchy had very selective hearing when it came to his brothers.

"That's actually pretty cool," Pie Eater voiced, adjusting the backwards baseball cap he was wearing. "Put me down."

Crutchy beamed. "That's the great part! You're all already signed up! I signed up all of us."

"Wait, wait, wait," Mush said. "I don't know about this. I felt really stupid last year. You just parade around and wait for an audience full of people you don't know to spend money for you to like, hang out with them. It's just… I mean, the tsunami relief fund is great, really, but… I don't know. I really hated doing it last year." He paused a moment, then pouted. "The damn Delts make the stupidest costumes, too. I mean, seriously. Dressing us all up as nineteenth century newspaper sellers? What the fuck!"

"Do you have plans for next weekend already, Mush?" Cowboy asked, pressing a hand to his eyes.

"Well, no. But…"

"But nothing, you're coming. You're already signed up. If you back out now, everyone will think you're anti-tsunami help. …Plus, if the rest of us have to suffer through it, then so do you."

Kid Blink kissed his neck. "Don't worry, Mush. I'll bid on you and win you myself. It'll be fine." Mush turned and smiled at him, and Blink winked. "Plus, it could be hot to watch you strut your stuff up on that auction block. Do a little shimmy for me."

Cowboy mentally checked off "Delt auction" from his bulleted list. 3/16. It was more than he had hoped for.

Leaving the rest of the boys behind, he trudged up the stairs to his room and his homework. None of them yet understood the immense effect that the auction was going to have on their group as a whole.


	2. Sequins and a High Bidder

Chapter 1: Sequins and a High Bidder

Written: March 12, 2005

Author: Mondie

Disclaimer: Newsies Disney's. Plot Mondie's.

"And now," Mr. Weitzel, the announcer, droned, "Jack Kelly. Jack is a senior and the president of Lambda Delta Lambda. Twenty-one years old, he stands at six foot and enjoys bowling, riding horses, and Jack Daniels. A Leo, he embodies the epitome of –"

"Thanks, Weasel," Cowboy said, grabbing the microphone. "To entice you lovely audience members to bid on me, I am going to sing you a song." He cleared his throat loudly into the microphone. Mush, backstage, winced at Cowboy's uncouthness. Then Cowboy began singing. "Oooh, you get me ready in your '56 Chevy, why don't we go sit down in the shade?" Mush's eyes turned to saucers until Cowboy crooned, "Where is my prairie song? Where is my happy ending? Where have all the cowboys gooooooooone?" filled the air, at which case Mr. Weitzel grabbed back the microphone. Everyone applauded because – though his enthusiasm undoubtedly counted for _something_ – Cowboy's singing voice was somewhere between a screech and a wail. Quite unpleasant, really.

From the angle he was standing at, Mush could just make out a sideways view of Cowboy strutting around the stage. After bitching them out every day for weeks, Cowboy had been in a much better mood the last couple of days, because he had gotten a couple of papers back with big red A's marked on their faces. His big smile, which had been practically nonexistent thus far in the semester, almost distracted away from his outfit.

Almost.

The Deltas had outdone themselves this year.

Last year, when they had dressed up the Lambdas as "newsies," they had dressed themselves as "Victorian bathing beauties." Mush was pretty much convinced that they thought up their own costumes first, and then tried to come up with as ridiculous a counterpart to their outfits as they could, for the boys to wear. The knickers last year had been uncomfortable, and the wool socks and jackets were itchy, while the girls paraded around in cute, distinctly un-Victorian bathing suits. This year, the theme was "Cheerleading Dance Squad!" The Delts wore little tight-fitting red sequined halter tops that ended just beneath their breasts, showing off their little flat stomachs, with little black sequined short skirts that showed off their little skinny legs. They had given the boys outfits that matched pretty well. The only problem, in fact, was that they _did_ match so well.

No shirts. Just a black sequined vest-type thing, which hung open, exposing their abs (as long as they were fortunate enough to have them). No pants. Just tiny little red sequined short-shorts that made them all more than a little uncomfortable.

It didn't look too bad on Cowboy. Cowboy had the right physique for it. He was the right weight, with just enough muscle mass to look good in the outfit without bursting its seams open. As he strutted around on stage, encouraging bids to go higher and higher, Mush suddenly wanted the floor to split open and swallow him whole. He peeked into the audience. Luckily, his boyfriend Kid Blink's hair products were the best in the world, and Mush easily spotted the sheen from the blond's hair from where he sat all the way in the back. Encouraged, Mush turned back to go look in the mirror again.

Mush had started working out daily in the gym when he was eleven. He had yet to miss a single day. He ate right and drank ten glasses of water a day. Therefore, Mush had a body much more built than any of his brothers. His abs had been pronounced since he was fourteen, and now, at twenty, he was the owner of a fourteen-pack. His legs were strong enough for him to push a car up a steep hill with little to no effort. His arms were well-defined, so much so that, unlike the rest of the boys in the frat, he did not need to flex his arms for his muscles to bulge outwards. These physical attributes had come quite in handy when it came to trying to seduce Kid Blink. However, when given a generically small, one-size-fits-all outfit by the Deltas – one that was small enough to fit Crutchy's lanky, skinny form – well… it was just really impossible for Mush to fit inside this outfit. The shorts were practically up his ass, and the vest – which actually overlapped across Crutchy's and Swifty's chests – remained open by at least six inches when Mush put one on. He felt, and looked, ridiculous.

Cowboy was pouting at the crowd, trying to get his price to go higher, but they had stopped bidding. Weasel shouted, "Sold, forty-five dollars!" Cowboy blew a kiss to the audience and strutted off-stage while a lady with a clipboard hurried toward the highest bidder.

A couple of Delts went next, being ridiculous and girly, as always. They primped and bounced and giggled up on stage. Then it was Bumlets' turn. Bumlets also was the right size for this outfit. He did a few breakdancing moves on stage, much to the delight of the audience. He went for forty-two dollars. Next up was Snitch, who rolled his eyes and trudged from one side of the stage to the other, looking annoyed. He only raised fifteen dollars. Looking relieved, he dashed offstage.

Mush's turn.

He looked back into the backstage area, his eyes pleading with anyone would look at him. He didn't want to go through with this. Where were all the compassionate people? His brothers – at least the ones who weren't laughing hysterically at his outfit – weren't meeting his eyes, and the Deltas were eyeing him like he was a dead carcass and they were vultures.

"And now," Mr. Weitzel said, "we have the lovely Mr. Micah Meyers." He was supplied with a script written by the Delts every year, and this was no exception. Mush hadn't filled out the personality card supplied to him, so they had made up his bio. "Micah is twenty and … Micah, where are you? C'mon out here, don't be shy."

Since nobody sprang up to help him, he dejectedly walked out on the stage. Remembering how little money Snitch had raised, and not wanting to only be bid on for ten dollars or some mortifyingly low price, he did what he knew how to do. He flexed. Various poses trademarked by large body-builders suddenly became second nature to him. The girls in the audience giggled. He wished that Blink wasn't sitting all the way in the back – he hated feeling so alone up here. Noticing a gentle pair of eyes staring at him from the second row, he latched onto the gaze and began performing to it. Weitzel's description of him was almost over, thank God. He made a note to make sure that the Delts knew for next year that he did not actually enjoy knitting or reading Nicholas Sparks' novels on the beach. Feeling ridiculous, he awaited the moment the bidding would start and he could end this horrid humiliation.

And then, he noticed a flash of sequins in the corner of his eye. Turning sharply to the right, he saw Racetrack putting down a stereo on the lip of the stage. Racetrack, who was wearing the sequined outfit like he was born in it, and had even added a sequined top hat to the ensemble, grinned wickedly at Mush. Mush knew what was coming. "No!" he shouted, but a second too late. Racetrack pressed play.

Beyoncé's "Crazy In Love" began to play.

Mush couldn't explain it, but whenever any Beyoncé song began to play, he just could not sit still. It was the strangest phenomena anyone had ever experienced. As soon as her voice began to sing, he just had to dance. His brothers all found it hilarious, and many parties so far this year had been spent putting on Beyoncé just to make Mush get up on a table and dance. He just could not help himself. It was like his body didn't even listen to his head, which was screaming at him to just act like a normal human being. His body took over and began dancing, and the audience went wild along with it. Mr. Weitzel was staring at him, and there were loud catcalls and cheers from the audience, as his body pelvic-thrusted and pirouetted and Napoleon Dynamited all over the stage. His brain was horrified and screaming for his legs to stop. But his legs weren't listening. Nor were his arms. His hips. Or, for that matter, his ass. His legs had decided to turn around and plant themselves so that his ass could shake itself in a fairly good imitation of Beyoncé, considering he was a very muscular, twenty-year old _boy_.

And then. The humiliation he had known was coming decided it was time to present itself. In the middle of his booty-shaking, his red short-shorts, which already were riding up his ass and stretched to their very limit, decided to split at their seams. The skimpy little shorts fell to the stage. And, since none of the brothers had figured out a kind of underwear that would fit under the damn things, he was left with a very naked ass facing a very loudly enthusiastic crowd.

Not sure what to do, he only knew that he could not turn around. And yet Beyoncé was still playing, so he couldn't stop dancing, either. He danced off stage. Racetrack, laughing so hard that he could barely walk, got on stage to turn the music off. Mush glared at him as he stepped into his jeans, and, zipping up the fly, walked over and punched Race in the eye before stepping back on stage to a standing ovation.

Bids were flying. Mr. Weitzel couldn't keep up.

"A hundred twenty-five!" shouted a girl in the front row.

"A hundred forty!" shouted a girl mid-way back.

"One hundred fifty!" two boys shouted in unison, then they began punching each other.

"One hundred seventy-five!"

"Two hundred twenty!"

Mush looked pleadingly to the back. He could see Blink's hair again, and it looked as though Blink was trying very hard to get money from the people on either side of him.

"Three hundred," came a calm voice from the second row.

"Three hundred and five!" Blink yelled from the back.

"Three hundred fifty," countered the second-row boy. The room fell quiet.

Mr. Weitzel cleared his throat. "Three hundred and fifty," he said, sounding awed. "Going once, going twice—"

"Three hundred fifty-five!" Blink shouted, sounding slightly desperate. Mush began to get worried. Blink could never even afford his books at each semester's beginning, let alone over three hundred dollars just to spend a weekend with his boyfriend, who he already got to hang out with for free. Mush wished there was a way to tell him to cut it out. A stupid weekend wasn't worth this much money.

"Four hundred!" shouted a row of girls in the fourth row in unison. They had apparently pooled their money.

"Four hundred and five!" Blink said, and Mush could hear the panic in his voice.

The second-row boy coolly countered, "Five hundred." The room fell silent again.

"Five hundred," Mr. Weitzel said, in disbelief. "Going once, going twice… sold. Micah Meyers, five hundred dollars." He shook his head. "Gotta feel sorry for whoever is up next…"

As Mush turned to exit the stage, Racetrack, hunched over in the side, pressed play on the stereo again. Mush had no choice but to shimmy over, then he kicked the stop button and then kicked Racetrack for good measure, too.

* * *

Back in the tight t-shirt and jeans he had come to the auction in, Mush felt much more comfortable as he went to seek out his boyfriend in the theatre's lobby. Everyone was very happy and congratulating themselves and each other. Mush had set a record with his five hundred dollar bid; the highest before tonight had been a hundred and fifty for the 1995 head cheerleader. Racetrack had raised the next highest amount of the night, with sixty-nine dollars, which had been the first and only bid placed on him. It had been shouted out by the boy he had been sleeping with for a year, a Beta named Spot. Racetrack was now in a very good mood, because he was officially the second-most popular brother, _and_ he was guaranteed to get laid that night.

Blink was waiting next to the water fountain, looking like he wanted to drown himself in it. He rushed over to Mush as soon as he caught sight of him. "I'm so sorry, Micah," he whispered, hugging him tight. "I tried, I swear I tried."

"Look, it's no big deal," Mush answered, kissing his cheek. "It's just one weekend. All I have to do is go to the Metro with him tonight and dance around while eating free Doritos and drinking free soda. It's no big thing at all. I'll make up missing this weekend with you." He kissed Blink again, loving the familiarity of kissing the boyfriend he had had since junior year of high school. He was just so comfortable with Blink.

Medda, the Delta advisor, ran over and grabbed Mush by the shoulder, effectively untangling him from Blink. "Micah, this is Michael. He's the one that bid on you. He bid a lot of money, in case you forgot. Now go hang out with him."

Mush stared at her. "Medda, we're supposed to meet up at the Metro tonight." He looked at Michael for clarification. "Aren't we?"

Medda glowered at him. "Micah. Five hundred dollars. Now go have fun. Your little friend here will understand. Won't you?" she asked Blink.

Blink readjusted the straps of his vintage Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles backpack and grinned half-heartedly at Mush. Uncapping his Nalgene bottle of milk, he took a swig before replying, "Of course I understand. I'll… call you tomorrow, huh, Micah?"

"You do that," Medda said, taking his shoulders this time, turning him in the opposite direction, and shoving him away. Beaming at Mush and his bidder, she flounced away.

Mush rolled his eyes at her retreating back, then turned to grin at Michael. "Everyone calls me Mush," he said, extending his hand. "Thanks for the generous bid, dude. That was really cool of you."

The other boy grinned, shaking Mush's hand with his right hand and running his left across his fauxhawk in a slightly nervous gesture. "No problem. Oh, uh, my pledge name was Skittery. No one calls me Michael anymore."

"What frat are you in?" Mush asked, moving toward the exit from the theatre. He figured if they hurried, they could walk behind Blink all the way back toward the frat house, and he could blatantly stare at his boyfriend's ass.

Skittery hurried to catch up with him. "Beta," he answered. "I'm in the frat with Spot; I think you know him pretty well."

Mush laughed. "Yeah. He's a bit of an exhibitionist, isn't he? I've seen him walking naked around our house more often than any actual member of our frat, I think." He could just make out Blink meandering along in front of them, which made him smile.

Skittery caught his arm. "Hey, where are you going?"

Mush stopped to think. "My house? Oh, did you want to go to the Metro? I was kinda hoping you'd want to blow it off. Campus clubs aren't quite my thing."

A giant smile creased Skittery's face. "Yeah, I hate the Metro, too. But I was thinking we could go to my house instead."

"Oh." Mush shrugged. "Well, ya know, it was your five hundred dollars." He turned and saluted. "Lead away, O Captain, my Captain."

The Beta house was well known on campus. On weekends, it was party central. Every weekend. Both nights. Without fail. So when Mush and Skittery reached it and there were no naked girls hanging out the windows or beer cans all over the sidewalk, Mush was very, very confused. "Isn't it Friday night?" he asked.

"Yeah," Skittery answered, sounding confused at the question. He caught on quickly, however, when he saw Mush checking the bushes for vomit. "…Oh. The lack of people? Yeah, I thought it'd be better if there weren't people slip-n-sliding across the kitchen floor tonight. I know it's slightly illegal for a Beta to say he isn't always in the mood for a party, but… really, sometimes it's hard to party every night. I paid off my brothers to take their sex partners out for the night."

Mush laughed. "You must have a lot of cash."

"Thank you, Father dearest," Skittery answered ruefully, pushing the front door open. "I'm gonna go get some cups from the kitchen. My room's up the stairs, second door on the right."

The house was almost eerie with its lack of people. Mush had never seen it empty before. The few beer cans on the table seemed lonely, and the couches – usually covered with people making out on top of other people making out – were sagging and sad without occupants. Mush noticed for the first time that the couches were green plaid. An interesting choice in a room with burnt orange carpet and tangerine walls.

He headed up the stairs, and found it strange that he did not have to trip over people on every step. He was almost relieved when he opened Skittery's door, so that he didn't have to see the sad, lonely disposition of the house anymore.

Skittery's room was organized and tastefully decorated with posters of Johnny Depp and Justin Timberlake. Mush sat on Skittery's desk chair and twirled around in it, waiting for Skittery to get up to the room. His eyes fell on a large bouquet of roses. He noticed a little card arranged between the stems, and, smiling, opened it to see who had such a crush on Skittery. His high bidder certainly had many things going for him: he was quite attractive, obviously loaded with cash, and actually seemed to have a decent personality, too. Mush hoped that the roses would develop into a high point of gossip. He loved nothing better than to expose a new crush on campus.

Hearing Skittery on the stairs, however, he hurriedly shoved the card back in its tiny envelope and tried to get it back on its little plastic stand among the thornless stems. Skittery opened the door before he got a chance to actually complete his task, however, and Mush was left slightly mortified.

Skittery put the glasses down on his desk and nodded. "Go ahead," he said. "Read it." Crossing to his closet, he opened it and began pulling down bottles. "What can I fix you?"

Mush looked over at the number of bottles and smiled. Besides being the rich-boy frat that threw the best parties, the Betas were also known for being the suppliers of the best alcohol on campus. Spotting Smirnoff 100-proof among the selection, he grinned and nodded to it. "Something with vodka. Surprise me." Winking, he turned back to the roses. Shrugging, he opened the card, feeling slightly less excited now that he had permission to read it.

It only had two words on it. _For Mush._ He read it roughly five times, then turned back to look at Skittery, who was measuring out shots into the glasses. "For me?" he asked.

Skittery was adding white grape-peach juice to the vodka, and looked up and smiled before adding in some peach schnapps. "For you," he answered. He pressed the glass into Mush's hand. "This is for you, too."

Mush smiled, but was suddenly a lot less comfortable. "Uh, Skittery. Just so you know. I have a boyfriend."

"I know," Skittery answered. "Try it, let me know what you think."

Mush obediently took a sip. He looked over at Skittery in amazement, then took another drink just to be sure. "…This is the best drink I've had in my entire life."

Skittery grinned. "Thanks. My cousin's a bar tender, and he's teaching me the ropes."

Mush nodded, impressed, and took a longer drink. "You can barely taste the alcohol. Just enough to know it's in there."

"I know. This is my favorite mixed drink," Skittery answered, smiling as he downed his own and began mixing a different drink. Mush, not wanting to fall behind, threw his drink back, too.

Skittery beamed. "How about a peppermint patty?"

Mush grinned. "I haven't had one of those since my first party freshman year!"

"Sit down," Skittery said, pushing Mush gently into his desk chair. Mush sat down and leaned his head back, smiling in anticipation. Skittery walked over and, looking down into Mush's eyes, slowly dripped chocolate sauce into his open mouth. Mush gaped his mouth wider, without really meaning to, because Skittery's eyes were so intense and… well, beautiful.

"Close your mouth a little," Skittery laughed. "You're gonna lose the chocolate down your front otherwise." Mush immediately closed his mouth slightly, as Skittery measured out a shot of peppermint schnapps. Filling it too much, a few drops ran, shivering, down the side of the shot glass. Mush watched, hypnotized, as Skittery lifted the glass and licked the lone drops off its side, seemingly in slow motion. Then he turned and smiled, asked if Mush was ready, and held the shot glass to Mush's lips. Mush raised a shaking hand to take it and poured it into his mouth, then mixed the chocolate and peppermint with his tongue before swallowing it.

"Thanks," he said, clearing his throat, and practically leaping from the chair. "I forgot how much I like those."

"My turn," Skittery said. He pointed at the desk vaguely. "Chocolate sauce is over there." Mush turned to get it, and when he turned back around, Skittery was lying on his back on his bed, waiting.

Mush swallowed, hard, feeling his heart begin to pound. Juggling the chocolate sauce, shot glass, and schnapps, he walked over and knelt beside the bed. Skittery closed his eyes and opened his mouth. Mush began pouring in chocolate sauce, his hand shaking, causing him to get sauce all over Skittery's mouth, but rarely inside it. Skittery began laughing, and Mush did too, and all the tension was now gone. He finally got chocolate in Skittery's mouth – a perfect mouth, Mush noticed, with nice, full lips and straight teeth – and then measured out a shot, which he poured slowly into Skittery's mouth. Skittery smiled and swished the combination around, then swallowed it and opened his eyes.

Mush laughed. "You have chocolate all over you," he said, grinning. "Go look in the mirror."

Skittery followed his advice, then laughed at his reflection. "You suck at giving peppermint patties," he told Mush. "And, what do you know… you have chocolate all over you, too."

"I do not," Mush answered, walking over and looking at his reflection. He hadn't noticed Skittery leaning back and grabbing the chocolate sauce. Skittery suddenly attacked him with it, squirting chocolate all over his face. Mush screeched and looked for something to either hide behind or retaliate with. Coming up with neither, he instead grabbed the bottle of Absolut from where it sat unguarded on the desk.

"Don't throw that!" Skittery said in alarm, lowering the chocolate weapon.

Mush scoffed at him, then tipped his head back and began drinking from the bottle. Skittery began laughing, then dropped the chocolate sauce on the carpet. "Share," he said. Mush chugged half the bottle, then laughed and handed it over. His head was reeling. While Skittery began drinking from the bottle too, Mush walked to the mirror and looked into it. "I'm a mess," he said, touching the chocolate on his face. He burst into laughter as he swirled the chocolate on his cheek. "I'm also a lightweight."

Skittery giggled. "I am too," he said. "Oh, I missed some." He tipped back the almost-empty bottle again.

"Let me," Mush answered, walking over and grabbing the bottle from him. He threw back his head and drank the last few drops. He dropped the empty bottle with a soft thud on the carpet and noticed how hard it was to focus on … well, pretty much anything. "Wow. That was a stupid thing to do."

"Was it?" Skittery asked. "You sure?"

Mush shrugged. "Pretty sure." His eyes fell on the roses. "Did you really get those for me?"

Skittery grinned. "I did." His hand was suddenly resting on Mush's side, and Mush moved closer to him. "I like you a lot, Mush."

Mush smiled. "But I'm covered in chocolate and gross-looking." He pouted.

Skittery leaned forward and began licking the chocolate off his cheek. Mush giggled. "That _tickles_!" Skittery smiled but didn't stop, and then his tongue licked at a bit of chocolate in the corner of Mush's mouth, and Mush's mouth opened of its own accord and he suddenly found himself kissing Skittery.

And Skittery had yet another thing going for him. He was an amazing kisser.

Mush forced himself to push away. "That was another stupid thing to do," he told Skittery.

"Was it?" Skittery whispered, kissing his neck. "You sure?"

Mush took a sharp intake of breath. "Pretty sure," he breathed back. "…I think."

"You think?" A long kiss, perfect and exciting and fantastic.

"I don't know," Mush breathed. "But I still have chocolate on me."

Decoding the message, Skittery smiled as he wrapped his arms around Mush, and kissed him fiercely.

* * *

**Shoutoutification!**

**Charlie Bird**: Haha, I am the foreshadowing QUEEN. Bwaha. Worship me. Now. Hehe you are so my new favorite. Ooh, how I adore you. :D Hee!

**Dreamer110**: Haha, thanks. I enjoy having newsies picking on each other. Haha. Thanks for the review:)

**Buttons14**: Oh. There will be much hilarity concerning Snipeshooter being in the frat. The only reason I ever put him in any story is to torture him. LOL. God, I hate that kid. Anyhow. Thanks for taking the time to review! I hope you stick with the story. :D

**Omni**: I love thee! I'll try and finish it. For you, my dear. :D Haha! Oh man, I love my Omni so much:D :D :D

**Cards**: If the muses love me, then I love you! Thanks for the review, dollface:D

**Studentnumber24601**: I LOVE YOU SO MUCH. I hope your headache goes away:( I'm sorry about the whole cheating-on-Blink thing in this chapter. I promise I still adore you!

And last, but not least… to my darling SITA… who is my co-Skusher and whom I love DEARLY. (Read my story, wench!)


	3. Drama With and Regarding Fruits

Chapter 2: Drama With and Regarding Fruits

Written: March 14, 2005

Author: Mondie

Disclaimer: Newsies equal sign Disney's. Plot equal sign Mondie's.

* * *

"Goo-ood mornin', good mornin'! We've talked the whole night through! Good mornin', good mornin' to you!"

Bumlets looked up with a dark scowl. "Goddammit, Blink, if you don't shut up on your own, I'm gonna make you." He turned to Racetrack, who was sitting at the table next to him. "Why the hell is he always so cheerful on Saturday mornings?"

Racetrack grinned as he ate a large bite of Golden Grahams. "I don't know!" Laughing happily to himself, he pretended that his next spoonful of cereal was an airplane, zooming it around the table and sloshing milk everywhere before eating the "plane" with enthusiasm.

Nibbling at his piece of toast, Bumlets rolled his eyes. "I forgot. You got some last night. …But still! Blink didn't! So why the hell is he so happy? It's far too early for cheerfulness, Blink. In case you didn't know. Go back to bed or something."

Blink grinned as he put down a fruit tray. "I can't sleep in. Can't explain it, either. I just never learned how to grow out of waking up early. I still can't sleep past seven am." He shrugged. "I got up and made this fruit tray today! Look! Fresh strawberries!"

Bumlets took the seran wrap off the top of it and loaded the paper towel he was using as a plate with generous helpings of the fruit. "Yeah. Thanks."

"That's for Mush!" Blink squawked, swatting as Racetrack reached for some, too.

Bumlets suddenly smirked. "Oh. Well then, we can eat all of it." Racetrack smiled in agreement as he added strawberries to his cereal bowl.

"What do you mean?" Blink asked. "Mush isn't here?"

At that moment, a very naked, very petite, light-brown haired boy came strolling into the kitchen. "Mornin', boys," he said, yawning. He opened the fridge and grabbed out a carton of orange juice. He studied a message written on it in black Sharpie. "'Cowboy's. Drink and die. This means you, Spot.' Yeah, right." He tilted his head back and drank half of it. "That's some damn good OJ."

"Hi, Spot," Blink said, laughing as the short boy walked over and planted his nude self in Racetrack's lap. Racetrack looked as though Christmas had come nine months early. "Have a good night?"

Spot just gave a rather vindictive smirk as he drank some more orange juice. "Better than yours, I dare say."

The dig about his lack of boyfriend last night caused Blink to remember Mush's current absence as well. He turned back to Bumlets. "Oh, yeah. You mentioned Mush wasn't here. Did he go out for his morning run already?"

"More like never came back last night," Cowboy said, entering the room and sitting down at the table. He grabbed Racetrack's box of cereal and pulled out a handful, which he began to eat dry. He noticed Spot drinking his orange juice. "Spot! You jerk!" Smacking Spot upside the head, he grabbed his orange juice and, sulking, drank the rest of it in three large gulps. Spot pouted and climbed off of Racetrack to go see what else he could steal from the fridge, which caused Racetrack to pout over the fact that his lap was now as bare as Spot. Cowboy was also pouting, because he had not gotten his daily allotment of orange juice. Bumlets pouted just because everyone else was pouting.

Kid Blink didn't pout, however. He just looked pleasantly confused. "Do you think he's okay? I mean, maybe someone jumped him and attacked him—"

Bumlets burst out laughing. "Can you really see anyone on this campus threatening _Mush_? The poor sap wouldn't have a chance! Mush is like, three sizes bigger than anyone else! …Well, except Fat Jay. But Mush could outrun Fat Jay, easy."

"Well then, where is he?" Blink asked, scratching his head.

Spot had found Swifty's cranberry juice, and walked around the table to pinch Blink's cheek. "You're so cute and naïve, Blinky," he cooed, before reclining back onto his human chair of Racetrack again. Racetrack seemed to be trying very hard to control himself. "The boy who bid on your big strong boyfriend is one of my brothers."

"Yeah? So?" Blink shrugged. "I'm sure that your brother is a nice fellow and that they had a good time hanging out at the Metro for a few hours."

All of the other boys at the table snorted laughter into their various foodstuffs.

"Blink," Bumlets countered, "What frat does Spot belong to?"

Blink's brow furrowed. He was pretty sure it was a trick question. "The Betas?" he finally supplied.

"Good," Cowboy said. "What are the Betas known for?"

"Money," Blink answered immediately. "Parties. Good alcohol."

"Right on all three counts!" Spot cheered. "So here's the story, Blinky-pie. Last night, Skittery paid off all of us, his brothers, to vacate our house for the night. We're talking big bucks here. He also took a thousand in cash to the auction because he was determined to win your little beau for the weekend."

Blink stared at him. "Are you saying…"

Bumlets stood up and brushed crumbs off his front. "We're saying that your boyfriend spent last night with a boy who owns good alcohol, and that boy put his money to good use to make sure there was a party just for two going on in his room." He patted Blink on the shoulder. "And apparently Mush had such a good time that he's still there. You should be happy for him. I've heard Skittery's a good lay." Turning and leaving the kitchen, he whistled and was suddenly cheered up. Nothing made Bumlets' day quite like a healthy, happy relationship going to shambles.

Specs, Dutchy, and Swifty came into the kitchen at the same time, all greeting Bumlets as he exited. "Ooh, a party!" Swifty said, looking excited at the amount of people in the room. He sat down in Bumlets' vacated spot, and his eyes fell on the fruit tray. "Ooh, fruit!" The next second, his mouth was full of kiwi. No one had seen his hand move to snatch it. The boy was fast.

"I'm not gonna stand here and let you all bad-mouth my boyfriend," Blink suddenly said, looking more than a little irritated. "I'm going back home. Enjoy the fruit tray."

Turning on his heel, he stormed out of the kitchen and out of the house.

"Oh. Someone just got word on Mush's rendezvous last night?" Specs guessed.

"You got it!" Spot giggled.

"Spot, you klepto, stop stealing my damn juice! This is the third weekend in a row!" Swifty suddenly shouted, then got up and began chasing Spot and his cranberry juice around the table.

Spot called to Racetrack, "Go! Your room! We'll have to barricade the door against this crazy man and, oh dear, whatever will we do all afternoon with only each other to amuse ourselves?"

Racetrack was up the stairs before Spot finished his proposal, and Spot darted after him. Normally, Swifty could catch Spot in half a second, but he was wearing his Big Bird slippers that morning, which rather hindered his speed. Spot got up the stairs and safely into Racetrack's room, with the lock clicking after him and Swifty's cranberry juice carton still firmly held in his hand.

"Goddammit," Swifty grumbled, walking back into the kitchen. "Oh, well. At least there's kiwi." He attacked Kid Blink's fruit tray with renewed fervor.

The front door creaked open, and everyone sitting in the kitchen leaned back in their chairs to see through the kitchen doorway to learn who was walking in. Wicked grins crossed everyone's faces.

"Mush! Get in here!" Cowboy yelled.

"Ooh, Spot's gonna be mad he missed this," Swifty predicted.

Mush stumbled into the kitchen. His hair was sticking up in every direction, and though he was wearing his own jeans, his shirt had three Greek letters on it that definitely were not Lambda Delta Lambda. He leaned against the doorframe. "Yeah, Cowboy?"

Everyone hid their laughter. "…Are you all right?" Cowboy asked, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice.

Mush yawned, and took Racetrack's chair. "I think I'm still drunk," he offered, before slumping and letting his head bang into the table. It was too much for Dutchy, who burst into laughter and then tried to hide it with a coughing fit.

"As your R.A. who knows that you are underage, I should report you to ResLife," Cowboy said sternly. "However, as your frat president, I salute you and offer my congratulations."

"So, Mush," Swifty said, grabbing hold of Mush's chest and hoisting him back upwards. Mush struggled to focus his eyes on him. "That does not appear to be your shirt. Care to explain?"

Mush looked down at his chest and would have slumped back over had Swifty not still have been holding him upright. "Oh. I don't know," he answered. "Whose is it, Swifty?"

None of the boys could contain their laughter anymore. It caught Mush's attention as they all howled in laughter. "Why are you all laughing?" he demanded, then shrugged and began laughing, too.

"What's so funny down here?" Itey asked, as he and Snitch entered the room. "It's far too early to be this chipper."

"Snitch! Awake before noon! Congratulations!" Specs said, holding up an apple slice in a toast. "I haven't seen you up this early since… freshman year?"

"Yeah, yeah, don't let it get around," Snitch grumbled.

"And what was so funny?" Itey pressed, eating a handful of pineapple from the fruit tray.

"Mush here is still drunk. And doesn't know whose shirt he's wearing," Dutchy recapped helpfully.

"And he didn't come home last night," Cowboy added.

Snitch looked at the shirt. "Beta? But Blink isn't a Beta."

He was met by smirks from Cowboy, Swifty, Specs, and Dutchy. "Exactly," Cowboy said.

Snitch burst into laughter, while Itey looked mildly concerned. "Mush," he began. "You didn't—"

Snitch slapped the table. "I was wondering why you weren't at the Metro last night with the rest of us! I can't believe you finally cheated on Blink! I've been waiting for this for _years_!"

"What!" Mush asked, swaying back and forth in his chair. "I cheated on Blink?" He shook his head slowly. "I wouldn't do that. Not to Blink."

"Then why are you wearing some other boy's shirt?" Specs asked.

Mush appeared to be thinking very hard, then suddenly his bright smile appeared. "I remember! I got chocolate sauce on mine. Well, Skittery got chocolate sauce on mine. So he's washing it for me."

"Chocolate sauce?" Itey asked. "…Why did he put chocolate sauce on your shirt?"

"Because I didn't have any on my face," Mush answered, as if this explained everything.

"Oh, of course," Snitch agreed heartily. "That's why I always get chocolate sauce on my shirts, too."

Cowboy was trying to make sense of Mush's story. "So Skittery put chocolate sauce on you because you didn't have any?"

Mush beamed and nodded. "Yup!" Swifty had slowly removed his steadying hands, and Mush's body fell backwards against the chair, sliding half off it before coming to a stop when his feet braced against the floor. He lay half on and half off the chair, limply sprawled like a rag doll.

"…Does this mean that Skittery had chocolate sauce on _him_?" Specs asked.

Mush laughed. "Yeah," he agreed. "Because I am no good at pouring it in people's mouths! No good at all!" He laughed again, loudly. Then he turned serious. "Then he had to lick it off me cuz it was _all_ over."

All the laughter in the room stopped, and uneasy looks were exchanged.

"…He licked it off you?" Swifty repeated, the first to regain his voice.

Mush laughed and struggled to upright himself again. "Yeah! And then…" His gaze turned cloudy. "And then…"

"And then what?" Snitch asked eagerly.

But Mush shook his head, and turned and threw up on the ground.

"Ew," Snitch said, picking his feet up off the floor and depositing them in Itey's lap just to be safe.

"Mush? You okay?" Itey asked gently, glaring at Snitch.

Mush shook his head silently, and the realization of what he had done last night, added to his puking, seemed to have sobered him up a little. "I need to go find Blink," he said.

"Want me to help you find him?" Itey asked. "I don't think you should be out there wandering around all alone…"

Wordlessly, Mush got up and went upstairs. A minute later, he reappeared downstairs, with his hair somewhat tamed and one of his own shirts on now. Without another word to the group in the kitchen, he left the house.

"…You're all gonna leave me to clean up his puke by myself, aren't you?" Cowboy asked.

"You _are_ the R.A.," Snitch said mockingly. "We would hate to take away your duties from you."

As the boys slowly meandered from the kitchen, Snitch was the only one wondering aloud about the possible magic potion powers of chocolate sauce. Everyone else was silent. Though they had all laughed and joked about it, no one had really thought that Mush would cheat on Kid Blink. They were the infallible couple, the one that had made it since high school, the couple that was celebrating their fourth-year anniversary in a month. No matter what else was going on, Mush and Blink were the only thing that was always constant. Maybe their being together wasn't necessarily the most logical thing in the world, but it was expected.

And if Mush could cheat on Kid Blink, then were _any_ of their relationships actually sacred?

* * *

Spot was the first person to see Mush upon his return to the Lambda house. "Hey there, big fella!" he greeted, skipping over to where Mush sat, looking dazed, upon the couch. His feet were propped up on the battered coffee table, his arms were crossed over his chest, and his eyes were completely unfocused. He didn't respond to Spot's greeting, nor his presence. Spot, who was still naked, even though it was now three in the afternoon, pranced around the sofa, trying to get Mush to snap out of it. Nothing worked, not even when he straddled Mush's bulky form and, grabbing hold of his shoulder, pretended like Mush was a bucking bronco and he was the man sent to tame him.

"You're no fun," Spot pouted, climbing back off of Mush and rolling his eyes. "Is this cuz of Skittery? Cuz, really, Mush, I've been talking with lots of people around campus, and we're all pretty sure that Skittery is much more in your league than Blink ever was."

"Blink and me broke up," Mush said, hollowly, his eyes dead.

"Yeah, well, I just started going out with Racetrack last night, and then we broke up around 2 am because the sex was better before we were boyfriends, but now we're back together as of 2:13 pm!" Spot grinned. "People break up all the time, Mush."

Mush shook his head. "Not me and Blink. We don't break up. We never have before." His eyes, carcasses that used to hold light but were now mere husks, suddenly flickered, just for a second before the spark died again. "I can't believe I did that. God_damn_. I've never done anything like this before." Small tears leaked out of his eyes, but he didn't seem to notice them, and they stopped shortly after starting. "God_damn_."

Spot looked uncomfortable. "Well, see, Mush, the thing is… you and Skittery make sense, at least. I mean, you're gorgeous – don't tell Race I said that, by the way – and Skitts is pretty cute too – ditto – plus… I mean, what can Blink give you? Skittery's got money and is really nice, I mean besides the fact that he seduced you or whatever last night, and… Oh, Jesus, Mush. Have you even _looked_ at Blink lately? The boy wears Spider-man shirts and carries around a Mutant Turtles backpack. He doesn't take vodka to class in his Nalgene, he brings _milk_. He has the mindset of an eleven-year old. I can't even believe that he knows how to have sex half the time."

"But those are the things that I love about him," Mush said softly.

"Well then. Last night, did you fight off Skittery?" Spot asked, tapping his foot.

Mush closed his eyes. "I was drunk, Spot."

"Not the point. Did you fight him off?"

Mush sighed, then shook his head. "No."

"And did having sex with Skittery completely suck? Rephrase. Completely blow? …Rephrase again. Was having sex bad?"

Mush turned and glared full out at the naked sprite. "No, Spot. No. It wasn't bad. It was actually fantastic, and that's what is so horrible. Because I love Blink, I do."

Spot let out a scream of excitement and danced around a bit. "Oh, I'm so glad I let myself be bribed last night!" he crowed. "Mush, right now it seems shitty, but that's just because you're used to being with Blink. But you're super lucky, because you don't even have to be lonely for any amount of time, because you have a new boyfriend all lined up!"

"A new boyfriend?" Mush asked, gaping. It was obvious that the thought of dating anyone other than Blink had never crossed his mind before.

Spot caught sight of something out the window. "Oooh! My timing is impeccable!" he grinned. "And in congratulations to myself, I'm going to go up and sexile Daveykins again." Whistling, Spot turned and took the stairs two at a time.

"Fucking exhibitionist," Mush growled as the short little naked creature disappeared from sight. "Well," he said out loud to himself. "I'm not getting up to get the door. Screw that."

Two minutes later, there was a knock, and the front door swung open. Mush didn't turn to look at the person standing in the doorway. He had forgotten that Snipeshooter had broken the door's lock three days ago and Cowboy, being the less-than enthusiastic R.A. that he was, had yet to turn in a work order for it.

"Hey," a soft voice said. "Can I come in?"

Mush didn't answer, though he thought to himself that it was the stupidest question he had ever heard, since obviously the door was open and the boy was already one foot in anyhow.

Skittery tilted his head. "You forgot your roses in my room," he said, smiling and crossing to where Mush sat, unmoving, on the sofa. He put the large vase on the coffee table. "So. Day two of our fun-filled weekend starts… oh, I think about now. What do you wanna do?"

"I hate you!" Mush screamed suddenly, grabbing the vase and throwing it with all of his might against the wall. The roses fell helter-skelter across the floor, and the vase crashed through the plaster, leaving a gaping hole littered with glass. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you! Blink fucking broke up with me! _Thanks to you!_"

Skittery stared at him, bewildered. "Oh, God, Mush."

"Well! What did you expect?" Mush shouted. "It was what you planned all along, don't play stupid with me! You wanted him to break up with me! Otherwise you wouldn't have done… all that you did…"

Looking torn, Skittery sat down next to Mush on the couch. Mush turned away. "Mush, listen to me. I did want you two to break up. I'm not gonna pretend like I didn't."

"A-_ha_!" Mush shouted, then fell silent, because he had already known that and the admission really wasn't much of a victory.

"But I didn't want to be the _cause_ of you two breaking up," Skittery said. "I swear. Because now I know that you're going to hate me, because I'm the reason why it happened." He swallowed thickly. "I'm really sorry that I hurt you, Mush. I just thought… I don't know. I thought if you had a night with me, you might realize that there might just be someone out there who is better suited to you than Kid Blink ever was."

"Why is everyone all of a sudden worried about how compatible Blink and I are?" Mush screamed. "Goddammit! Fuck! I didn't ask for this!"

Skittery placed a hesitant hand on Mush's shoulder, which Mush jerked away from. "I didn't ask for this either, Mush. I didn't ask to get the largest crush of my life on the only untouchable boy on campus, and I didn't ask for you to get hurt. That sucks, and I'm sorry that they both happened, because then everyone's lives could still be content and happy. But I didn't ask for anything last night, either. I didn't ask for anything other than your company. Everything that we did last night was half me _and_ half you. I wasn't the only one initiating. So don't punish me for this."

"I know I was wrong, too," Mush said evenly, still not turning to look at Skittery. "But I can't help it. I need to have someone to hate, and so I half-hate myself, and I half-hate you. Together, I can't stand us."

"I hate myself for getting you hurt," Skittery said, mostly to himself. Mush froze at the sincerity in his voice.

"You really do like me, don't you?" he countered, sounding slightly taken aback.

Skittery fought back a sarcastic laugh. "I have never spent over two thousand dollars on one night with a boy before, trust me."

"Two thousand?" Mush asked, confused. "It was only five hundred—"

"Not to get all my brothers out of the house too. I had to pay them each 75," Skittery countered. He looked down at his hands and began picking at a hangnail. "You don't seem to understand how perfect you are, Mush." He looked over at the back of Mush's head. "How perfect you are for _me_."

Mush sighed. "It's just too bad I hate us together. That's all."

Skittery thought for a moment. "But if only half-hate yourself and you half-hate me, then there are halves of both of us that you don't hate. So can't those two halves combine into an us that you like?"

Mush bit back a smile at how Skittery's voice was so pleading. "…Sorry I threw the roses."

Skittery shrugged. "More roses can be easily acquired," he answered. He reached over and took Mush's hand gently. Mush didn't shy away from the touch this time. "Mush, I know that we got off to a… bad start…" he began.

"But we didn't," Mush answered, in barely more than a whisper. "That was part of the reason why I hated us: it was because I didn't hate us at all."

Skittery got up and walked around to Mush's other side, so that Mush was now forced to look at him. "Please, Mush. Give me a try. Give _us_ a try."

"I don't know," Mush answered, trying his hardest to look away from Skittery's eyes but finding it impossible. "I just don't know."

In response, Skittery leaned down and kissed him firmly.

David had postponed his sexile for as long as he could by swearing that he was almost done with his paper, but finally Racetrack had caught onto his lie and had quite literally thrown him out into the hallway. Cursing his look at getting a nymphomaniac roommate, David headed downstairs to see if anyone was watching a movie or doing anything remotely interesting down there.

He stopped short on the stairs when he caught sight of Mush making out with Skittery. Turning on his heel, he dashed back upstairs and flew into Snitch and Itey's room, hoping to high heavens that they were fully clothed. Luckily, they were, and were even sitting at their respective desks, across the room from each other. "Mush is making out with a strange boy who isn't Blink," he panted.

"What!" Snitch cried, jumping to his feet. "C'mon!" He began knocking on doors, spreading the word, and before long, the entire frat plus Spot was gathered in a clump on the stairs, with mouths wide open.

"I'll be damned," Cowboy said.

"_Mush_ be damned," Spot amended.

"_You'll_ be damned," Swifty answered. "Where's my juice, bitch?"

Spot let out a high-pitched shriek as Swifty chased him down the stairs and out the front door. "I'm naked! I'm naked!" Spot was squealing long after he was out in the snow.

"That's never seemed to bother you before!" Snitch laughed as the rest of the brothers chased after the two, slamming the door behind them.

"They didn't even _notice_," Snipeshooter said in awe, peering in through the living room window. "We ran right through the room, and they didn't notice one bit! They're still making out like they didn't even hear us!"

Inside, Mush pulled away from Skittery for a moment. "I hate my brothers," he said.

"Yeah. Well, at least you aren't fraternally related to the short naked one who steals juice," Skittery answered, then leaned over and kissed Mush again.

* * *

**Shoutouts!**

**Studentnumber24601: **Uh. Please don't kill me. If you kill me, then you will never know whether Blush gets back together in this fic or not. Plus I'd be dead. And uh. Dead isn't fun? Uh… I made Blink uber!cute in this chapter for you:D That should count for… something… -runs and hides-

**Charlie Bird:** Ha. Just try and escape the Skush love. We have you hooked. BWAHA. I am so glad you are my new pet, because I adore you sohardcore. :D Thanks for the lovely review!

**Omni:** Haha. I really like Race in this story. I've been neglecting him for a while. I like having him back around. Plus I love having you around too! –cheers for omni love!-

**Pyromaniacal Llama:** Yes, yes, Skitts –is- too pretty to be mad at. (Mush: You got that right.) It is just another reason why we adore him so very, very much. :D

**Sita-Chan:** I'm so glad you're reading:D As we are TEH SKUSHERS OF DOOM. I'm so glad we made up this pairing! XD I LOVE YOU SO MADLY DEEPLY TRULY, my darling darling Sita!

**Dreamer110: **Yes, well, I have found at college that some of the guys you would most expect to be able to hold their liquor are the exact ones who fall over after one shot. Which is really amusing, actually. :D Hee! Thanks for the review!

* * *

Don't forget to review, all you readers-and-not-reviewers… Because I say so. And so does Mush. And Blink. Blink wants your sympathy and Mush wants your "AHH YOU'RE HOT"s. Because he is. And yes. Review, wenches!


	4. Butterflies

Chapter 3: Butterflies

Written: March 15-21, 2005

Author: Mondie

Disclaimer: Newsies equal sign Disney's. Plot equal sign Mondie's.

* * *

Mush loved waking up on Sunday mornings, because there was never any rush. Just a slow realization of his senses, one by one, until he was conscious enough to force himself out of bed to go to the gym.

This Sunday, he awoke to his nose itching. Lazily lifting a hand to scratch at it, he was forced to jerk fully conscious when his hand hit an actual _thing_, not just a particle of dust.

Opening his eyes, he sat up in bed to find his room the inside of a dream world. Butterflies as big as his hand were flying around the room, flashes of every color making a living rainbow. There were at least thirty insects filling the air of the room.

"Good morning," came a soft voice from the chair in the corner. Mush looked over, gaping at Skittery.

"Did you do this?" he asked, as a butterfly landed on his arm and flexed its wings up and down.

Skittery laughed. "Who else? Certainly not that roommate of yours."

Mush laughed too. Pie Eater had a slight phobia of insects. That probably explained why he was nowhere in sight, though he usually slept much later than Mush did.

"They're gorgeous," he whispered, staring in fascination at the butter yellow one now perched on the blanket covering his legs. "Thank you."

Skittery grinned, getting off the chair. "Anything to see that smile," he answered playfully, sitting on the floor next to Mush's bed and draping his arm casually over the bed's surface. Mush was still looking around himself at the butterflies in amazement.

"No one's ever done anything like this for me," he breathed.

"You're worth it," Skittery answered. He raised himself to his knees and leaned forward to kiss Mush.

Mush pushed back the covers and escaped before Skittery got any closer. "Thanks again. How about breakfast?"

Skittery smiled, disappointed. "Sounds good." He followed Mush out of the room.

They only got halfway across the hallway before hearing Pie Eater's voice rising up the stairs. "He put _bugs_ in my _room_! Didn't even ask! I woke up with them all acting together as an army and _attacking my head!_"

"What kind of bugs?" Snipeshooter piped up.

A loud smack, and a muttered curse word from Snipeshooter. "It don't matter what kind, you dumbass!" Pie Eater shouted back. "_Evil_ ones!"

Snipeshooter began climbing up the stairs as Mush and Skittery headed down. "He's insane," he greeted them grumpily, rubbing at a red handprint on his cheek.

"Mornin', Mush. Mornin', Skittery," said Cowboy when they reached the kitchen. He held up Racetrack's Golden Grahams, which were nearly gone. "Care for some cereal?"

"For someone who gets awfully mad at Spot for taking his juice, you sure seem to steal a lot of other people's foods," Mush told him, sitting in a vacant chair and reaching for the offered cereal. "I'm not saying it's a bad thing. I'm just saying."

Cowboy shrugged. "Race is different. I've known him since I was six. I think that makes me entitled to eat his food."

Specs, who was reading _The New York Times_, looked over the top of it and rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes, we're all aware of how close you and Race are. Gag me with a spoon."

Cowboy held up the desired utensil. "Open wide and say 'ahh,' Buttercup."

Racetrack suddenly flounced into the room. "Hi! How is everyone?" Beaming, he skipped around the table, planting large, sloppy kisses on everyone's cheeks. Cowboy tried to hide his nearly empty cereal box, but not quite fast enough. Racetrack merely grinned. "Didja eat my cereal, Jacky-boy?" he asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "I hope it was good! You can eat my cereal whenever you want!"

Cowboy exchanged a hurried, worried glance with Mush. "Race? You okay?"

Race burst into giggles. "Spot is just the best sex I've had in my entire _life_, that's all."

Mush could feel Skittery's eyes burning into the side of his face at the mention of someone having sex. He didn't meet the gaze, instead letting himself become very occupied with a piece of toast he stole from Specs' plate.

Pie Eater, who had up until this point been ignoring Mush and Skittery with unbridled fury, now turned to them huffily. "Are those… _things_… still in my room?" he asked frostily. When they nodded, he exhaled with all of his might. "How the hell am I supposed to get dressed or do homework with a _killing brigade_ out to _eat my soul_!" he demanded.

Mush handed him his crusts, which Pie Eater ate immediately, without thinking, as it was their custom. "They're _butterflies_, Pie," he said in a soothing voice. "Pretty, pretty butterflies." Taking a swig from Cowboy's new orange juice carton, he then also gave the carton to Pie Eater, who obediently took a drink before putting it back in front of Cowboy. "The butterflies just fly around and are pretty. That's all butterflies do."

"I distinctly saw talons!" Pie Eater insisted. "Mush, they were trying to _consume_ my _ears_."

"They were _kissing_ your ears, Pie," Mush cooed. "Just little butterfly kisses."

"More like trying to _digest my brain_!" Pie Eater said, looking pained.

Cowboy turned and rummaged in the cabinet behind him until he found a toothpick, which he began chewing on. "I think we just found out why Pie Eater can't get a date," he told the room at large.

"Oh, hi, Skittery!" Racetrack suddenly trilled, as if he hadn't noticed Skittery before, though he had already greeted him with a kiss. "I didn't see you!"

"No, you just covered me in your saliva because I'm invisible," Skittery answered, laughing. "Gross, by the way."

Racetrack slapped him lightly and giggled. "You're so _silly_."

Cowboy's eyes widened at the amount of flaming that Racetrack was letting himself indulge in. "And you're so _gay_."

Racetrack walked over to him and climbed on top of him, then began kissing him fervently, grinding against Cowboy and letting out low, guttural groans. Everyone's attention was attracted. Even Specs put down the _Times_ to witness the spectacle.

"One minute," David said from the doorway, and everyone jumped. David was looking at his wristwatch. He felt eyes on him and looked up. "They've now been at it for a minute." Not questioning why David would feel the need to time something like this, everyone nodded as one and turned back to the interesting display of Racetrack macking on Cowboy at the kitchen table. "…Two minutes." A collective head tilt to the left. "…Three minutes."

At that, Racetrack climbed back off Cowboy. Looking pointedly into Cowboy's lap, he said triumphantly, "And so are you." Cowboy glared at him as he stalked off to the bathroom to alleviate the problem initiated by Racetrack.

Specs laughed into his newspaper, and Mush was staring wide-eyed at Racetrack as though he had never met him before in his life. Snipeshooter chose that moment to make his entrance again.

"Pie Eater!" he yelled excitedly.

Pie Eater was still sitting with his head tilted, staring at Racetrack. "Yeah?" he asked, distracted.

Snipeshooter had been cupping his hands together, and now he moved them apart and three butterflies flew straight for Pie Eater's hair. He let out a blood-curdling screech and ran, arms flailing, from the room and right out the front door.

"He _does_ know that there are even more bugs outside, right?" Skittery asked, scratching his head.

Mush shrugged. "Ya know, sometimes I think that doesn't occur to him. And I'm not gonna be the one who brings it to his attention. He'd never leave the house then."

"Good point." The boys still in the kitchen watched the butterflies lazily flap around the room for a few minutes. It was hypnotizing.

"So why _are_ there butterflies in the house, by the way?" Specs asked finally. "All we could get out of Pie Eater was, 'Bugs. Killing machines. Assassination attempt. Save meeeeeeeee.'"

Skittery smiled. "Surprise for Mush. I ordered them offline. You should go look at them, I got one of every available color."

Cowboy, who had come back and sat down huffily, stared at him. "That's like… the cutest thing I've ever heard. And it makes me want to go drown myself in the sink. Or in my orange juice. Probably the orange juice, because I don't have to move again then."

Racetrack's face had creased into a mighty frown. "Why does _my_ Beta boy not order _me_ butterflies?" he demanded. "This isn't fair! Not fair at all!" He ran to the doorway and yelled, "_Spot! Go buy me presents online!_" Smiling happily again, he sat down in a chair and reached for the other abandoned piece of toast on Specs' plate. "Mm! Marmalade!"

"What are you hollering about, bitch?" Spot asked, suddenly appearing in the doorway – naked, of course. A sneer decorated his face. "You get _me_, you asshole. Why would you need anything over the Internet?" He noticed the butterflies. "Ooh. Pretty."

"I want butterflies!" Racetrack announced. "Go buy them! Skittery bought these ones for Mush. You don't want _them_ to be cuter than us, do you!"

Spot raised a delicately plucked eyebrow. "Are you serious? Someone cuter than us? Uh, hi, _not possible_." He walked behind Race and began licking his neck. Suddenly standing up straight, he pointed an accusing middle finger at Cowboy. "Who's cuter, me and Race or Mush and Skitts?"

"Uh. I'd have to say Mush and Skittery," Cowboy answered, before taking a long, leisurely drink of orange juice. Spot stared jealously at the guarded carton for a minute, before flicking his wrist so that his pointing finger was now flipping Cowboy off. He then turned and pointed at Snipeshooter.

"You and Race," Snipeshooter squeaked. As always, he was afraid of confrontation, and he was on average much less frightened of Mush, whom he thought of as a gentle giant, than he was of Spot and Race, who were small and vicious like the monkeys who had stolen his wristwatch at the zoo.

Specs didn't even look up from his newspaper to see if Spot's finger was now singling him out. "Mush and Skittery," he answered dryly. "Simply because they do not force their naked selves upon me."

Spot, of course, saw this as a challenge, and walked over and grabbed Specs' newspaper away, climbing on Specs' chair and standing with one foot on each of its arms. "How's this for forcing my naked self upon you? Huh!"

Specs looked up at him calmly, then reached between Spot's legs to grab his glass of water from the table. Sipping from it, he shrugged. "I'm just saying I've seen much more impressive specimens before."

"You have not! You crazy-ass bitch!" Spot screeched, jumping down and looking outraged.

"Hey, I wonder if Pie is ever coming back," Mush said, leaning back and looking toward the open front door. Pushing back his chair, he smiled at Skittery. "Guess I should go collect the butterflies so at least he has a safe haven in our room."

Skittery stood up too, following him out into the living room. Catching Mush by the waist, he pulled him close. "You did like them, though, didn't you?" he asked, pressing his face into Mush's shoulder and looking up at him.

Mush looked over his other shoulder to make sure no one was watching from the kitchen, before leaning over and kissing Skittery swiftly. "I loved them. Seriously. Thanks."

Skittery smiled, reassured. "Good," he answered. "I'll come help you catch them."

Mush grinned. "Thanks, Skittery." They headed upstairs.

* * *

Two hours later, two boys had forgotten about catching butterflies and lay enclosed in each other's arms. Two other boys were stealing glances at each other across a long, long room, before meeting in the middle with a sweet kiss. Three other boys were lounging in their triple, two pretending to be enthralled in their homework, and only one allowing himself to steal forbidden glances around until he gave up and stalked downstairs, causing his bespectacled roommates to exchange amused glances. Yet another pair of boys, both short, were having a contest to see which one of them could yell the loudest during sex.

"I gotta get to the gym," Mush said after Racetrack let out a loud screech that could be heard throughout the whole house, for two entire minutes without a breath. He pushing back the covers on his bed and began searching for his boxer-briefs on the floor.

Skittery sat up behind him and kissed his shoulder blades. "You sure?" he asked, giving Mush a quick massage. "Nothing I can do to change your mind?"

Mush turned and gave him a small smile. "Sorry, I've never missed a day yet. Not even yesterday, when Blink…" Allowing himself to trail off, he shrugged clumsily and climbed to his feet. "Someone's bound to be hanging around downstairs, if you want to join them or something."

Skittery got out of bed and started looking for his clothes, too. "No, that's okay, I guess I have some homework I could be doing." He found his clothes in a heap but didn't put them on, instead opting for watching Mush dress. "You're gorgeous," he breathed, before he could help himself.

"Thanks," Mush said, looking a little bemused. "I'm just wearing my gross work-out clothes, though."

Finally pulling on his clothing now that Mush was dressed, Skittery grinned. "Mush, you could wear a burlap sack and you would still win the title of Most Beautiful Boy in the Universe."

Mush laughed a little, then opened the door and headed downstairs. Skittery had no choice but to follow, after closing the door to keep the butterflies in.

Cowboy, Pie Eater, Snoddy, Bumlets, David, and Swifty were all sitting on the leather couch, watching _Pretty Woman_.

"You guys are _so_ homosexual," Mush said, raising an eyebrow at the group. "You've officially hit an all-time low. I've never seen so many men sitting, squished together so tightly, watching a Julia Roberts movie."

"…Mush, you happen to be a member of Lambda Delta Lambda," Bumlets answered, in his best admissions tour guide voice. "Haven't you heard? We're the gay frat on campus."

Rolling his eyes, Mush said, "You're _kidding_. Damn, guess I'd better go become a Sig. I don't wanna catch the gay."

"Yeah. Like you're not the gayest one here," David said, scoffing. "Now move out of the way, this is my favorite part." He sighed happily as Mush obeyed and they all looked to see what Davey's favorite part was.

"Your favorite part of _Pretty Woman_ is Julia Roberts going down on Richard Gere for the first time?" Cowboy asked incredulously. "You lose, Dave. You're kicked out of the frat." He turned to everyone else on the couch. "What, dear darling stereotypical gay boys, is the best part of _Pretty Woman_?"

"Shopping!" everyone else on the couch and Mush all squealed in unison.

David rolled his eyes. "You guys are stupid."

"And stereotypical," Snoddy added, nodding seriously. "Don't forget stereotypical."

"Hey, Mush, are you going to the gym?" Cowboy asked, suddenly noticing Mush's attire. "Can I come with you?"

"Yeah, I'll wait," Mush answered, as Cowboy got off the couch and went upstairs to change. Mush took his spot on the couch. Skittery headed for the door.

"I'll call you later," he said, smiling at Mush.

"Sure," Mush agreed, smiling back, but his attention was quickly stolen by Julia on the screen. Skittery sighed a little as he opened the front door and left.

A loud screech filled the air. Everyone downstairs turned to look at the staircase, as though they could see the cause displayed there. "What the hell is that?" Swifty wondered.

Pie Eater said spitefully, "Maybe somebody just let out a cage of grasshoppers in some innocent person's room." He pouted toward Mush. Snoddy tightened his grip around Pie Eater's waist, which appeared to calm him down a little.

"I think it's Spot's turn to try and out-yell Race mid-coitus," Mush said, blatantly ignoring Pie Eater's comment.

"Are the evil killing machines still in our room, Mush?" Pie Eater asked, in a little voice.

Mush leaned over and jostled his knee. "Yeah, but I swear I'll get them out when I get back from the gym."

"But that's _hours_ from now!" Pie Eater answered, sounding pained. "I'm still in my _pajamas_ here, Mush."

"So you are," Mush answered. "Sorry, Pie. You're still my favorite roomie!"

Pie Eater glowered at him. "Your flattery will get you nowhere, sir!"

Snoddy volunteered, "You can come hang out in Crutchy and my room, Pie. You can even get dressed if you want, we're almost the same size."

Distracted from Mush and the butterflies, Pie Eater looked incredulously at Snoddy. "Really? Wow, thanks, Snodds!"

Snoddy ducked his head, smiling. "No problem."

The other boys in the room exchanged glances. Swifty grinned wickedly. "Do I smell romance in the air?" he asked, turning and sniffing at the air. "…Yup, there it is. You can smell the stench of cutesiness a mile away."

"Shut up," Snoddy said, his face turning beet red.

"I've been noticing how you act around Pie Eater for, like, months now," Bumlets volunteered. "You're completely smitten, dude. I didn't want to be the first to tell you."

"You're sitting with your arm around him, in case you didn't notice," Swifty noted helpfully.

Snoddy snatched his arm away. "We're friends."

"Uh-huh," Mush said, nodding. "Just really _good_ friends." He rolled his eyes. "We all know that you like him, Snoddy."

"Then why didn't anyone tell _me_?" Pie Eater squawked. "You're fired as my roommate, Mush. First and mostly, because of _bugs_. Second, and pretty importantly too, because _you're supposed to tell me things like this_."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I didn't tell Snoddy that you like him back, either," Mush said, shrugging.

Pie Eater made sputtering sounds, and Snoddy turned, if possible, even more red.

"We ready for the gym?" Cowboy called, walking back down the stairs dressed in shorts and a matching jacket over a tight-fitting t-shirt, with his hair held back with a sweatband.

"Yeah," Mush answered, getting up. He saluted to the TV. "Bye, Julia. Have fun seducing Richard." He then turned to the couch. "Have fun watching the seduction, Bum, Swifts, and Davey. Have fun seducing each other, Pie and Snodds." He followed Cowboy out the door.

Snoddy and Pie Eater were staring at each other. "…Want to go take a walk or something?" Snoddy asked shyly.

"Yes," Pie Eater answered, as if he had been waiting his entire life for that question to be asked.

"Leave already! I want to watch my movie!" David screeched, getting up and pulling up the pair by their wrists and practically throwing them out the door. He was applauded by Swifty and Bumlets, and then the three of them cuddled together to watch the rest of the movie.

* * *

"He doesn't go to the gym, Cowboy."

"I know, Mush."

"Why is he here?"

"I don't know."

"Did you see how bad his hair looks? You think it's because we broke up?"

"…Please tell me that you're not so gay that you notice his state of hair before the crushed, devastated look on his face."

"I was trying to put the latter out of my mind. Thanks."

"Oh. Sorry. …By the way, is it your normal way of dealing with frustration to practically break the elliptical machine with crazy overworking?"

"Yes."

"Oh. Okay then. I'll be over lifting weights."

Mush turned up the volume on his iPod and clutched the handles of the machine he was working on even harder. He knew Cowboy was right, and that he was overworking the machine, but he couldn't stop. It was on its highest weight setting and he was still going faster than the girl huffing and puffing on the one two machines over.

Kid Blink came and sat down on an exercise bike just behind the elliptical machines. He chose the one just to the right of Mush, situated just so that Mush could see them side-by-side in the mirror in front of him. Closing his eyes, he tried to keep his emotions checked. It would just not be good if he burst into tears in the gym.

Luckily, two minutes later, another boy came and got on the machine just next to Mush, effectively blocking Kid Blink from view. Mush sighed in relief and even gave his new next-door stranger a shaky smile, which the boy turned from with a sneer.

When Mush got off his elliptical machine forty minutes later, Kid Blink had left the gym and he was free to finish his workout routine in relative peace. Outwardly, he turned back into the gym shark he was, getting in his full two-hour routine and laughing and joking with the rest of the gym regulars. Inside, however, he was in shambles. The pain and hurt he had known he should feel from losing Kid Blink was suddenly present. Seeing him and having them not even acknowledge each other's presence was the most hurtful thing he had ever experienced in his life.

At the end of the two hours, Mush was surprised by a grinning face popping up in front of him. "I thought you might want some water," Skittery said, uncapping a plastic bottle and handing it to Mush, who downed it in three gulps.

"Thanks," Mush answered, trying not to let his bad mood show. "You're so sweet, Skitts."

Skittery shrugged, grinning. "Like I said before, anything for you." Lightly running a finger down Mush's bicep, he looked into Mush's eyes. "I'll let you get back to working out. Call me when you get home? Maybe we can go out for dinner or something."

"Sure," Mush answered. Skittery turned and left the gym, and Mush let his face fall from cheerful back to a grimace, which he covered by picking up a heavy weight in his left arm and pumping it.

He knew that there was no way he was calling Skittery. Two thousand dollars. butterflies, thoughtful trips to bring him water, nothing but kindness… and he would blow him off that night.

He wondered if the elliptical machine was still open. Ignoring Cowboy's pleading face that wanted to leave, he went to go see.

* * *

**Shoutouts!**

**Buttons14: **Haha, my parents are obsessed with Las Vegas too. But I personally always feel I've achieved something if I've made someone laugh _and_ be sad. :D Thanks for the reviews!

**Sita-chan:** I completely blame Mush's doubts right now on the fact that we haven't properly RPGed in forever. This means we must remedy this. Um. Now. (ILOVEYOUSOMUCH! XD)

**Charlie Bird:** nekkid!spot is my favorite Spot of all times. I am continually amused by his antics. And I never said Blink was innocent. –amused smirk of knowing things that no one else does because she is the author and that is her job- Bwahaha. Love ya hon!

**Lyra:** See, when you review and not just read, then you get a shoutout! Obvious (and only) incentive for reviewing! So. Um. Because you reviewed, you get… a newsie of your choice wearing his sequined auction outfit? Aha. And yes, I'm loving the frat setting because it just works so well with the characters… Have you read Lute's While the Thunder Rolls? I think that's the title… anyway, her band camp fic? Though I'm now an ex-bandie since going to college, we all can see that bands (and now frats) are the perfect settings to shove newsies in every which way. ;) And good, Skush is Sita's and my evil plan to take over the world… it's supposed to be a lot cuter than it is right now, but none of my characters are cooperating. Anyhow. Thanks for the review… you should review again sometime. ;)

**Omni:** Uh. Your review cut off. But my story makes you do SOMETHING, which is always a plus. Haha! I adore you!

**Studentnumber24601:** You're about as good at staying in fights as Mush is. But see! I put in stuff for you this chapter! Like Mush doubting things! See! That was for you! Because I love you! More HISMSV?

**Twilight-maiden:** -hypnotizes you- Skush is cute. It is. It issssssss. :D Hahaha, I plan to win over the fandom someday soon. And you will all be flabbergasted and Sita (co-Skusher) and I will just nod and say "That's right." But yes, Blush is still my OTP. –shrugs?- Haha, thanks for the review!

**The Second Batgirl:** Psht. You know the nympho!sprace makes up for just about anything else in the story. :P And I swear, it's not my fault, the characters do what they want. Me? I wanted this chapter to be cute fluffy Skush. And look what happened. So really, nothing can be blamed on me. It's all the characters' faults. (and I love you, don't hate me)

**Ann Valentine:** -clings and loves so hardcore!- I just adore you like the moon loves the sun. MY WIFE IS THE BEST. :D

**Dreamer110:** I stayed at my brother's house with his brothers for St. Patrick's Day, and got about thirty million ideas. Seriously, I was just looking for a new idea and was like, "Gay frat, why not?" And then seeing my brother and his brothers in action completely convinced me that this was a move of BRILLIANCE. Haha! And yes! Another Skusher admitting to it. Bwaha. SITA AND I ARE CONVERTING THE WORLD!

**Stage:** -loves on you and all three reviews!- And my story is like pudding. Aha. You are teh awesome. My computer just tried to fix "teh" because it is evil and doesn't like my lingo. Haha thanks for reading, darling!

**Uninvisible:** Haha, I rather enjoyed your review, myself. :D And I'm madly in hearts with naked!spot. He makes me giggle. :D

**XBeLLaViTaX:** There really is a Metro? Huh. Who knew. Haha, I just called it that because the club on my campus is called the Underground. –grin?- Haha, that makes me laugh. And you will love the Skush! I insist upon it. :D beyonce!mush is hot. Aha. Thanks for the review!

**Strawberri Shake:** YES! WE ADORE THE SKUSH LOVE! Fandamntastic. Too many people are not into the Skush love. And Skittery is hotness times twelve just normally. :D Haha! Thanks for the fabulous review:D

**Frogger No Baka:** -clings!- I miss you too! Where you been, kid? Oh, I miss seeing up you in the balcony… … Okay, no more Medda!quoting for me. But thanks for reading, darling! We have to catch up soon! –loves on you-

* * *

**Note to Sita:** The revolution is happening. Current (admitting to it) Skushers: You, me, Charlie Bird (even if he says he's choosing Blink, he's admitted to it in the past SO THERE), Lyra (almost there), twilight-maiden (ditto), Dreamer110, XBeLLaViTaX, and Stawberri Shake. We must do our best to convert the WORLD.

**Note to Readers-And-Non-Reviewers:** As you'll see, one of your number, Lyra, recently broke her spree and left me a review! And look, she got a sequin-wearing newsie because of it! You too could get an imaginary door prize if you just click on that little button just down there! C'mon! You know you want to! XD


	5. New Sparks

Chapter 4: New Sparks

Written: March 22-3, 2005

Author: Mondie

Disclaimer: Newsies equal sign Disney's. Plot equal sign Mondie's.

* * *

Cowboy sat at his desk, his eyes running over the lines of his book without his brain comprehending a single thought. He had the only single in the house, and while this usually was quite all right by him, at times it got really lonely. Loneliness was the only reason that his door was open just now, but the ruckus his brothers were making was distracting, not comforting, him. He could hear Snitch and Swifty having a race in the hallway, shrieking at the top of their lungs. Racetrack and David were arguing in their room with the door open, too. Pie Eater, who had taken to walking around in a beekeeper's hat for the past couple of days since Skittery had let butterflies loose in the house, was hollering about there being insect eggs in his shoes. Somebody else had apparently taken up tap-dancing and was practicing in the kitchen, because the linoleum was the only surface in the house Cowboy could think of that would produce such a loud sound from stomping. He was so distracted by the not-quite-coordinated clacking sounds that he didn't notice some of the other background noise was gone until there was a knock on his doorframe.

He looked up quickly from his book, glad that it had at least _appeared_ like he was scholarly. The smile he forced soon became relaxed, as he saw who his visitor was. "Dave. Hey."

David gave a little smile back as he walked through the open door, but shut it behind him. "Jack, can we talk?"

Cowboy knew it was serious if David was using his real name. "Sure," he answered immediately, closing his book and setting it on top of his bookshelf before swiveling around in his chair. David had sat down gingerly on Cowboy's bed – thankfully he had been bored enough that morning to make it – and was looking forlorn. "What's wrong? Racetrack being an asshole again?" Chuckling gently, Cowboy smiled benevolently at David. "Want me to go talk to him and tell him to tone it down?"

"No, it's not Race. I mean, he _is_ being an asshole, and annoying as hell, but… when isn't he?" David was picking at Cowboy's bedspread. "It's not about him this time."

Cowboy leaned forward and rested his elbow on his leg, and his chin in his hand. He and David had gotten pretty close this year, since David and Racetrack had started rooming together. Cowboy was the only person who could rein in Racetrack when he went over the top. David had come to him many times asking him to go talk to his impossible roommate, and they had happened upon a few real conversations in the process. But David had never sought him out specifically to talk about another problem, R.A. or not.

Cowboy suddenly felt privileged.

David stopped picking at the bedspread and turned to look Cowboy straight in the eyes. "It's just…" He stopped, and looked away. Gathering his courage again by staring at the potted plants in Cowboy's window, he turned back again. "I mean, he…" Cowboy's gentle eyes scared him again. Heaving a sigh, he pushed himself off the bed. "Never mind, this is stupid."

Cowboy stood up too, and pushed him back on the bed. "Sit. Talk. C'mon, Dave."

David smiled at him suddenly. "You're the only person I've ever met who calls me Dave, you know that?"

"Really? That's weird, 'cause… you just seem like a Dave."

"My family still calls me by my full name. Mush calls me Davey, but… yeah, you and he are the only ones who have nicknames for me." He looked down at his hands. "I like it."

"So what's going on?" Cowboy asked. "You can tell me, Dave. I'm not a gossip queen, here."

David nodded. "I know. It's just… it's really stupid. And I know it's stupid, and that's the problem."

"You aren't failing or anything, are you?" Cowboy asked.

A scoff from David for that. "Are you serious? I'm getting straight A's. Don't tell Racetrack, he'll never stop making fun of me. But no, it's not my grades."

"You're getting straight A's? Seriously?" Cowboy sounded incredulous. "You wanna write some of my papers for me then?"

"No, actually, I don't," David laughed. Staring over at Cowboy with his bright blue eyes, he seemed to shrink suddenly. "…Cowboy, I… I like somebody."

Cowboy felt his heart speed up, but he tried to make it be quiet. "Really, Dave? …Is this your problem?"

"Yes."

Seeming puzzled, Cowboy moved from his chair to the bed beside David. "But why is this a problem, exactly?"

David glared at him. "Because this is the worst thing to happen to me since coming to college! A, I don't have time to spend mooning over some… some _boy_. B, if Racetrack ever finds out, he will never let me live it down. C, I've gone this far in my college education without getting a crush on anyone, why does it have to happen when I'm happily stable in my classes? D… D, it's … oh, God, Cowboy. It's Mush. I like Mush. _Mush_!" Letting out a dramatic wail, he flung himself backward on the bed and cracked his head, rather hard, on the wall.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Mush? Mush _Meyers_ Mush?" Cowboy clarified.

David stared at him. "How many Mushs do you _know_, Cowboy?" He sat back up, rubbing the back of his head. "Ow," he muttered.

"It's just… well, Dave, to be honest, I never really saw you as much of a bodybuilder fan," Cowboy answered, picking his words carefully.

"Way to state the obvious," David answered, rolling his eyes. "It's not because of his body, Cowboy. It's because of the way he treats me, how he's so friendly and nice and… oh, God, make it stop!"

"You're right, Racetrack _would_ make fun of you if he knew," Cowboy said thoughtfully.

David looked over at him. "Cowboy, how do I make myself not like him? I never let myself like him before because… well, he and Blink were just so perfect together, you know? But ever since they broke up… God, this is stupid, but my brain decided that if he and Blink weren't together anymore, there was… a chance for me… I guess." Mortified, he buried his face in his arms. "Please, _please_ don't breathe a word of this to anyone."

Cowboy extended a caring arm and put it across David's shoulders. "I wouldn't dream of it, Dave," he answered. "Mush would be lucky to date you. Seriously."

David looked at him with doubt written all over his face. "That's really nice of you to say, but please, Jack." Cowboy noted with more than a little twinge of pleasure that David was back to using his real name. "I mean, Blink's really attractive. Skittery's really attractive _and_ has money. What do I have? Nothing. Good grades. Nobody wants to date someone for their grades."

"Hey, hey," Cowboy broke in. "Don't do that, Dave. You're really attractive too, ya know." David sniffed in disagreement. "You got those curls. And your eyes, they're real blue and pretty. Your smile too, even though I can't see it right now 'cause you're too busy pouting, but I know from the past that your smile's pretty killer too."

David smiled a little, but then shook his head. "And I've got the wiry body of a scarecrow, and my veins show in my feet and it's gross, and I already have wrinkles at the corners of my eyes—"

"Laugh lines, Dave. Those are attractive, too." Cowboy kept his arm around David's shoulders and shook them gently. "Face it, kiddo, you're a cutie."

"I am not," David insisted, though a smile was tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Listen, Jack. You gotta help me get over Mush. Somehow."

Cowboy immediately tried to shut down his brain before it came up with about thirty ways to "make David get over Mush," none of which were slightly innocent. "How do I do that, Dave?"

David shrugged. "I dunno. But if you notice me like, staring rapturously at him at dinner or anything, make sure to kick me. If anyone found out, I would die. Just die."

Cowboy nodded. "I can do that."

David smiled, and seemed relieved. "Thanks, Jack. You're the only person I would trust with this, you know." He got up and walked out the door, his stride a lot surer than when he came in. Cowboy hadn't realized he had been holding in his breath, but it came out as a giant exhale and he cradled his forehead in his hands.

"Ohhhh boy," he breathed to himself.

David stuck his head back in the door. "By the way, Chocolate's back from that funeral or whatever he went home for. Just thought you should know. You know, as president or whatever."

"And that would explain the tap-dancing," Cowboy answered, snapping his head up and plastering on a giant smile. "Thanks, Dave."

David smiled and ducked back out of the room. Cowboy punched his mattress in frustration, then got up and walked out of the door to go welcome Chocolate back.

* * *

"My bologna has a first name, it's O-S-C-A-R. My bologna has a second name, it's M-A-Y-E-R. And if you ask me why, I'll say—"

Dutchy smacked Snipeshooter upside the head. "Shut up, Freshman. …Don't you live in a dorm, anyway? Why are you always here?" He turned to Specs. "Why is he always here?"

Snipeshooter smiled. "Because I like my brothers more than my hallmates, that's why."

"Yeah, well, Boots is a member of the frat too, but he stays in his dorm like a good ickle freshman," Bumlets pointed out. "Same for Grouch."

"Oh, I don't know how much longer Grouch will be in the frat," Snipeshooter said cheerfully. "Word on the street is that he's failing all of his courses. Oscar Delancey will most likely fail out of college his freshman year."

"What?" Cowboy asked. "He didn't tell _me_."

Snipeshooter shrugged. "I think he's in denial. Say, if he fails out, does that mean I'll have a better chance of getting a single next year here in the house?"

Bumlets burst into laughter. "Yeah, right, Snipe. You'll only be a sophomore. The seniors will have any singles."

Chocolate grinned. "Speaking of rooms, are we gonna room together next year again, Bumlets?"

Bumlets smiled. "Sure thing. You're so much better than the roommate I had freshman year."

"Hey!" Itey yelled from the kitchen. "I heard that! And I was a good roommate! I'm the one who convinced you to pledge Lambda, if I'm not mistaken." He stuck his tongue out, even though Bumlets had his back to the kitchen and couldn't see it.

"You're also the one who left his dirty, smelly, disgusting clothing all over the room, if _I'm_ not mistaken," Bumlets called back.

"Bite me!" Itey yelled.

"I'll leave that to Snitch."

Chocolate sighed. "Oh, I've missed you guys."

"I don't know why you would," Cowboy answered, coming down the stairs. "Hey, Chocolate. Good to have you back."

Chocolate stood up and they gave each other friendly hugs. "Thanks, Cowboy. A week without you guys was like cutting off my oxygen. I just knew I was missing everything." Rubbing his hands together, he sat back down on the couch between Snipeshooter and Bumlets. "So what _did_ I miss?"

"The break-up of the century," Snipeshooter said eagerly. "Mush cheated on Blink."

Chocolate burst into laughter. "Yeah, right. What did I _really_ miss?"

Bumlets suddenly elbowed him. Mush was coming down the stairs. All conversations stopped as he wandered through the living room and into the kitchen, opened the fridge, got out a Diet Pepsi, and wandered back to the stairs. Halting on the second step, he turned back around. "You all can talk about me again," he told them. His eyes were bloodshot. He turned and trudged back upstairs.

Chocolate's eyes were wide. "…Holy crap."

Everyone else merely nodded. He scratched at his head. "Well. That's… wow."

"I think this is my cue to go check on my roommate," Pie Eater said, standing up from the poker game at the kitchen table.

"We're in the middle of a game!" Racetrack yelled. "You can't just _leave_!"

"Itey gets my chips," Pie Eater said, and ignored the following indignant squawk from Racetrack. Adjusting his beekeeper hat, he headed upstairs.

* * *

Mush had pulled the curtains closed, and his computer was playing Savage Garden while he softly hummed along, hugging his teddy bear and crying whenever the urge hit him.

Pie Eater paused in the doorway, stifling a sigh. "All right," he said in a falsely cheerful voice. "Mush, you've only left the house to go to the gym for the past… like… too many days."

"Four," Mush supplied.

"Yeah. That."

Mush sighed. "Just leave me alone, Pie."

Pie Eater crossed to the single large window in the room, pulling the curtains apart. Sunlight flooded the room, and Mush cringed away from it, burying himself in his blanket. Pie Eater then marched to Mush's desk and stopped the Savage Garden. Searching Mush's iTunes library, he noticed a playlist entitled "Can't Stop Shaking My Ass." Starting it, he was relieved when the first song was Beyoncé. Mush let out a tortured scream but pushed back his covers and stood up. "I hate you," he said, as he began dancing around the room.

Pie Eater had to laugh at the sight of Mush and his teddy bear dancing together. Mush glared. "Stop laughing." Pie Eater only laughed harder, and then Mush found the corners of his mouth lifting, and soon they were both laughing so hard that they drowned out Beyoncé and Mush could collapse back on his bed. Pie Eater crumbled to the floor, holding his sides. As their laughter calmed down to a few giggles and Beyoncé began singing through, Mush stood back up and begged, "Push the arrow button! Next song! Hurry!"

Pie Eater struggled to his feet and complied. Unfortunately, the next song was Beyoncé as well. The two burst into laughter again until Pie could compose himself enough to push "next" again, and it turned to the much safer "Let's Dance" by David Bowie.

The two sat down on Mush's bed, breathless. Pie Eater gave Mush an amused smile. "It's nice to see you smile again," he said, hoping that calling attention to it wouldn't make it disappear.

Mush cuddled with his teddy bear. "I just… I don't know what to do," he admitted. He looked up at Pie Eater. "Can't we just go back to that frat meeting before the auction and I can pummel Crutchy for signing us up for it and then get out of doing it?"

Pie Eater laughed. "I would if I could."

Mush thought for a minute. "…Horrible as it is, I don't know that I would."

"Come again?" Pie Eater said. "It sounded to me like you just said you wouldn't go back to being patched-up-happy with Blink again."

Mush shrugged. "I… I just… Oh, it's too complicated to explain. I don't even know what I'm saying."

Pie Eater leaned over and grabbed his teddy bear. "Spill, Mush. Or I'm turning Beyoncé back on."

With a heavy sigh, Mush turned and buried his face in his blanket. "Just… give me time to figure it out first, okay? I'll tell you as soon as I come to any conclusion at all, I swear." He turned and peeked a look at his roommate, who was watching him with a frown. "I'm seriously not as emo as I seem. I promise. I'm just… thinking. A lot."

"And not going to class, and not doing homework," Pie Eater said, his voice full of doubt. "Mush, I'm worried about you. You're not allowed to fail out. I mean, I know that me graduating this year and leaving you behind is causing you all kinds of stress…"

Rolling his eyes, Mush sat up and punched Pie Eater in the shoulder before grabbing back his teddy bear. "Leave me alone with my sorrow." When Pie Eater stared at him, he shook his head. "I'm _joking_, Pie. But seriously, you don't need to baby-sit me. I'm not gonna overdose on pain killers or anything."

"Will you go to class tomorrow?" Pie Eater asked, in an outstanding impression of his own mother.

"Yes," Mush answered, sounding pained. "Now leave me alone to sing Savage Garden and drink Diet Pepsi."

"If that isn't a soft drink commercial right there, I don't know what is," Pie said, standing up. "Seriously, though, Mush… I want you to be able to talk to me. You can trust me, you know."

"I know," Mush said. "And thanks for that, Pie."

Pie Eater smiled. "Did we just have a bonding moment?"

"I think we did. We'd better cut it out before we start actually liking each other," Mush said, in a deadpan.

Pie Eater ruffled his curls. "You're a good kid, Mush." He headed out of the room before Mush could throw his teddy bear at him for messing up his hair.

* * *

David's plan of having Cowboy kick him whenever he felt he was staring too much at Mush worked. It worked a little too well, in fact.

"Cowboy. Look at my shin," he whined, opening Cowboy's door and walking in late that night. "It's _purple_."

Cowboy looked up from a book that he was highlighting every other line in, just to keep himself occupied. "So it is. Kinda pretty, ain't it?" He smiled, then dropped the smile, skipped over a sentence, and began highlighting the next one.

"…Is that an actual quote you're highlighting? 'Cause if it is… your book must be full of interesting quotes."

Cowboy's eyes drifted back to David's again. "I feel that the color yellow will stimulate me to actually read it, rather than just stare at it like I've been doing all day."

"Oh." David stood awkwardly in the doorway. "Well, I just wanted to let you know that your kicking really, really hurts."

_So does your staring at him_, Cowboy shot back mentally, but outwardly he just smiled. "Sorry, Dave. I really didn't mean to be so violent." He leaned back in his chair and stretched. "Wanna watch a movie or something?"

David looked back at him suspiciously. "Shouldn't you be doing your homework?" he chastened. "You're so close to graduating, Cowboy. You should get your reading done."

Cowboy shrugged. "I'm in easy courses right now, Dave. My professors couldn't care less about the work I do or don't do." He shut his book and recapped his highlighter, opening his desk drawer and dropping both inside. "Out of sight, out of mind. C'mon, let's do something that _isn't_ work."

"I have a big paper due next week—" David started, then trailed off when Cowboy looked amused at his scholarliness. He sighed. "Okay, okay. Fine. What movie?" He moved to Cowboy's bed and dropped onto it, defeated.

Cowboy pulled out his secret weapon. "_Mask of Zorro_," he answered, grabbing the DVD from his shelf and waving it in front of David.

"Oh-my-God-that's-my-favorite-movie-how-did-you-know?" David asked, without pausing or breathing between his words.

"I have my sources," Cowboy answered deviously, mentally thanking Racetrack for being the most talkative person on the planet who happened to like making fun of his roommate's Antonio Banderas obsession. "So is that a yes?"

David was practically bouncing up and down. "You are my absolute _hero_, Jack Kelly!" he declared. "Yes, yes, yes! Put it on!" He grinned in anticipation. "I could just kiss you. Nobody else in this house understands the hotness of Antonio!"

Cowboy laughed and put the DVD in the player, then crossed to the bed and sat gingerly next to David.

"Wanna spoon?" David asked. "I call little."

Dying inside, Cowboy merely situated himself so that his body curved in a question mark matching up to David's body. David grabbed hold of Cowboy's arm and wound it over his own chest. "That's better," he said happily. "A hot man on the screen in front of me, and a hot man behind me." He turned his head a little so that Jack could see him wink. "I promise I won't hit on you, though. Not once Antonio is on screen!" He laughed merrily, and Cowboy had no choice but to join in.

Cowboy began watching the movie angsting over David's comments, but soon felt his anger dissolve away, if only because he _was_ spooning with the boy he had fallen for long ago. He tightened his grip across David's chest, and David nestled back against him more firmly in response. Feeling content, Cowboy let himself enjoy the moment just for itself.

* * *

"Where the hell is my roommate?"

Swifty looked up from the PlayStation 2 game he was playing with Dutchy. "When have you ever cared where David was before, Race?"

Racetrack shrugged. The house was dark and silent other than the two playing video games in the living room, and so he had come to gripe to them while wearing his red plaid pajamas and rubbing his hair, already tousled from tossing and turning. "I can't sleep in that room by myself," he answered testily. "There are ghosts."

"So go call your little lover," Dutchy suggested. "I haven't seen David for hours."

"That's what's bothering me," Racetrack exploded. "It's not like David to just run off. Usually he leaves me at least three notes, put in the places he thinks I'm most likely to see." He fell quiet, then said in a tiny voice, "We fought today. I think I might've really made him mad."

"You didn't set his calculus homework on fire again, did you?" Swifty asked. "'Cause it took him _weeks_ to forgive you for that one."

"Or throw out all of his underwear again? He nearly killed you that time," Dutchy added.

"Or fill his shoes with sand again?"

"Or put centipedes in his desk again?"

"Or glue all of the items on _top_ of his desk to the desk again?"

"Or use up all of his printing allowance on fliers that had his picture and said 'Ask me about the time I slept with the president of the college' and post them all over campus again?"

"Or do something equal to the time you called his house and told his mother that her son was a big flaming homosexual when he hadn't come out of the closet yet?"

"Or—"

"We get the idea," Racetrack shouted. "Okay, so I'm a bad roommate, are you happy now?"

They both shrugged. "Doesn't matter to me if you suck as a roommate," Dutchy said. "Not like I'm ever gonna have to have the experience of living with you."

At that, Swifty looked a little sad. "I'm gonna miss you and Specs next year, Dutch. We have a lot of fun in the triple, don't we?"

Dutchy grinned wickedly, a smile meant for some private joke that Racetrack wasn't privileged enough to know about. Besides the three who lived there, the triple was off-limits. Not even Cowboy knew what went on there, although interesting sounds were almost always issuing forth. "Hell yeah, we do!"

"If I have to room with Racetrack, I'll kill myself," Swifty continued.

"Hello. Right here," Racetrack said angrily. "Anyhow. …So neither of you have seen David?"

"Nope," they answered in unison. Dutchy added, "We've been down here since dinner. He didn't leave, we'd have seen him do it. He's gotta be around here somewhere."

Racetrack rolled his eyes. "It's three in the morning, you idiots. I don't think he's off having a tea party with Crutchy or anything."

"You could go ask Cowboy, isn't it his job as R.A. to keep us all in line or whatever?" Swifty suggested. He gave a loud cheer as his character beat Dutchy's. "Ha! Take that, blond scum!"

"…Did you just call me scum?"

"Maybe. What're you gonna do about it, huh?"

Racetrack left them behind and climbed back up the stairs. He didn't really want to bug Cowboy at three in the morning, but he didn't want to sleep alone with the ghosts, either. Walking lightly down the hall and flipping on the light, he crept to Cowboy's room and eased the door open. He was about to whisper Cowboy's name when the hall light lit up the room enough for him to make out David. Sleeping on Cowboy's bed. With Cowboy's arms wound around him. The DVD menu was playing on repeat, so Racetrack pressed the power button on the TV to turn it off. The sudden silence in the room made David shift, turning from facing the TV to facing Cowboy. Cowboy's arms tightened around David in his sleep. Racetrack wasn't sure whether to laugh or melt.

He chose to melt. He decided that the only reason he was letting them off the hook for this cuteness was because it was so late and he was so loopy from lack of sleep.

He headed into Bumlets and Chocolate's room, figuring they wouldn't care if he crashed on their futon. With other people in the room beside him, he could officially sleep well.

And it was mandatory that he get some sleep in, if he was going to be alert enough to mock Cowboy and David mercilessly the next morning.

* * *

**Shoutouts!**

**Checkmate: **Yeah, the Skush was supposed to be awkward last chapter, because Skittery is completely not cooperating with my authoress genius. ;) Haha, he should start cooperating again soon. If not, I'll be most displeased with him. Thanks for the review!

**Stage:** Haha, I rock at making Specs do things he just does not want to. :D But I can totally see him saying in this dry tone, "Gag me with a spoon." With this glare. And it is most amusing. -loves back!- Teh Racetrack!Outfit sounds fantastic! Aha.

**Charlie Bird:** The angsting has to happen, unfortunately. I'm telling you, Skush just aren't cooperating with me. It's most aggravating. And Pieddy –is- hot, and you must go write me some because you said you would. –glare!- Tis unfair to dangle that over me. Just so you know. :P

**XBeLLaViTaX:** Huh. Who knew. The world's a funny place, Metro dance clubs popping up all over the place. :D The Skush should reshow itself, hopefully soon, and much cuter, as well. –glares at Skush, who whistle innocently and pretend like they're working with, not against, Mondie- Hehe, thanks for the review!

**Erin Go Bragh:** We should get on Lutells' case to update WtTR, shouldn't we? Silly girl, not updating her band fics. -gives BACK the sequin-wearing newsie- You don't have to date him, you can just put him on a shelf and let him walk around as if he were one of the Quidditch figurines from HP. –nods- Haha, they always played "Cotton-Eyed Joe" at our high school dances. And "Baby Got Back." And the dance remix of the movie soundtrack from _Grease_. And the electric slide. …Yes, high school was fun. Aha! Thanks for the lovely review. :)

**Strawberri Shake: **SpRace is indeed hot. –nods in agreement- And I really like my Racetrack in this fic, I haven't used him in a while and it makes me happy to make him loud and abnormal and flaming. Aha! Thanks for the review. :D I promise Skush will TRY and work out soon. If it doesn't, I will officially kill them. –nods threateningly at the characters-

**Dreamer110:** It's very loosely based on a frat on my campus, who aren't all gay but definitely have the most gay members (at least, ones that are out) in ratio to their straight members. They're my favorite frat, haha. They're also the music majors and the theatre guys. They make me happy. :D For some reason, I can totally see Sid running out a front door after someone throws butterflies at his head. Bumlets was Mush's original roommate, but it had to change after the phobia was introduced. Haha! And yes for the converted Skushers! Woo! Thanks for the review!

**Pyromaniacal Llama: **Haha, my characters make me laugh. :D Thanks for reviewing!

**Omni:** I'm so glad you like my flaming!newsies! Aha, it's always been my experience that the more gay guys in a room, the more the level of flaming increases. Strange phenomena. :D Woo for being twirled in circles! Hee. And yeah, Skitts isn't cooperating with me. I'm trying. It just isn't happening so much. He has promised to try and work more closely with me in the future, though, so we shall hold him to it. :D Thanks for the lovely (not cut off!) review:D

**Studentnumber24601:** -loves- Thanks for reviewing even though you hate my story! Aha. You're one of my very very favorites. –loves!-

* * *

Forgot to mention last chapter that Skitts' letting loose butterflies in Mush's room was hi-jacked from Toni Morrison's _Sula_, where Ajax does that for Sula in a briefly mentioned, offhand plot detail that I absolutely fell in love with. Also, Skittery has officially promised to work –with- me for the rest of the story.

And I have to share this too, because I find it strange. Weirdest exchange of the day:

**MondieGoil (3:07:44 PM): **You! Online! loves!  
**RabidSlashFanboy (3:07:55 PM): **...  
**"RabidSlashFanboy" signed off at 3:08:09 PM.**

Twitchy Darling! What was –that- about!

Okay. That's all. Please review:D


	6. Karaoke Nightmares

Chapter 5: Karaoke Nightmares

Written: March 24, 2005

Author: Mondie

Disclaimer: Newsies equal sign Disney's. Plot equal sign Mondie's.

* * *

"…Wow. That's… that's intense, Mush." Pie Eater reclined on his bed, running a hand though his dark hair. "Are you sure?"

"I think so," Mush answered, firmly snuggled in his own bed. "I really honestly think so."

Pie Eater shrugged. "So maybe you should just go and stop putting it off," he suggested.

Mush nodded. "I think I will." He stood up. "I can do this."

"You can," Pie Eater seconded.

"I _will_ do this."

"You will."

Mush's face suddenly crumpled. "I can't do it, Pie!"

Pie Eater stood up as well, and crossed their small room in two strides. "You can, Mush. You can. You care about him, don't you?" Mush nodded dismally. "He cares about you, too. So go get 'im, Tiger!" He patted Mush assuredly on the shoulder.

Mush adjusted the collar of his shirt and walked to the door, twisting the doorknob and walking out. Pie Eater fell back on his bed, holding a textbook in front of his face. Mush peeked back in around the door. "If you ever call me 'Tiger' again, I'm kicking your ass," he warned.

Pie Eater laughed. "I didn't think I was gonna get away with that."

"Right. Okay, see you later." Mush left the room again.

Pie Eater waited five minutes, just to make sure that Mush was really gone, before reaching up and tapping lightly on the wall that his bed was pushed up against. He held his breath, but with little need, because an answering rap called through the thin wall a moment later. He knocked again, one loud tap, and a minute later, the door to his room swung open again.

"Hey," he said, smiling.

"Mush gone?"

"Yup," Pie said, sitting back up to make room on his bed.

"Good. Let's get busy, then," Snoddy answered, grinning as he closed the door, walked over, and flung himself on the bed.

Pie Eater smiled. "You look great today."

"What, this old thing?" Snoddy countered, adopting a Southern belle accent. He leaned forward and jostled Pie Eater's leg, leaving his hand on his knee. "You do too, Sebastian."

Pie Eater grinned, leaning over and kissing Snoddy softly. "So… you ready?"

"Did you get—"

"Right there, on my desk," Pie Eater answered.

Snoddy kissed him again. "You're fantastic."

"It doesn't exactly take a genius," Pie Eater said, laughing. "But here, dear prince." He got up and crossed to his desk. While his back was turned, Snoddy hurriedly popped a few breath mints.

"Here you go." Pie Eater turned back around and handed a few pieces of paper to Snoddy. Snoddy shifted through them, before one caught his eye.

"This one."

"Which one?" Pie Eater sat beside him and read over his shoulder. "Oh, good choice."

Snoddy leaned his head back against Pie Eater's chest. "Let's practice, before I lose my drive to perform in favor of… just you in general." He looked up and suddenly laughed wickedly. "We are _so_ gonna stomp ass at the karaoke competition tomorrow."

* * *

It was barely nine pm, but already the Beta house was in full Friday force. Mush stared at it in wonder, unsure if he could make the final twenty steps up the front walk into its loud, bass pumping, jolted frame. A group of giggling girls, not drunk but extremely tipsy, walked up behind him and linked arms with him. "C'mon, cute stuff," said the one on his left. "You're not gonna get any action just standing on the lawn."

He let them sweep him along into the house, but untangled himself from their clutches as soon as they headed toward the punch in the kitchen. He looked around. Most of the lights were off, except a few neon signs and some extensive black lights, and it seemed a completely different place from the house he had been in not even a week ago. Girls were everywhere, with a few boys spaced in between them. Mush found himself wrinkling his nose. Beta parties were never really his cup of tea, and were even less so when he was sober.

He began to search the faces of the boys that he could find in the living room. None of them looked really familiar, until he saw a couple of short boys making out in a corner.

"Hey! Spot! Have you seen Skittery?"

Spot pulled away from Racetrack and scowled. "Go away, I'm busy!" Racetrack, obviously already trashed, didn't even acknowledge Mush, just pulled Spot back toward him with a moan.

Mush sighed and headed through the jostling people, opting for the bright lights of the kitchen. Not many people were in there, just a few boys guzzling punch in hopes of getting drunk faster, the giggling girls who had dragged Mush inside, and a redheaded boy calmly drinking from a mug while talking to a boy with white-blond hair. Mush sighed and leaned against the wall, feeling unprepared to go face the surging seas of drunk faces again.

The redhead looked over and grinned. "Mush?"

Mush looked back and gave an uneasy smile. Usually he had a great talent for remembering faces and names, even people he met while drunk out of his mind. This face didn't ring a bell. "Hi!" he chirped, hoping that his overexuberant greeting would distract from the fact that he didn't use the boy's name back.

"You don't know me," were the next words to leave the tie-dyed clothed boy's mouth. "People call me Pinhead. Because they're fuckin' cruel." He held out a hand, which Mush shook. "I'm Skittery's roommate. I didn't fuckin' mean to startle you, but… yeah, Skittery's pointed you out to me like thirty fuckin' times in the past year." He grinned amiably. "Oh, this is Charlie."

"Hi," Charlie said softly, ducking his head.

"Fucking A, Skittery didn't tell me you were coming over tonight! Does this make me sexiled?" Pinhead moaned. "That asshole. Charlie, can I crash in your fucking room tonight?"

Mush shrugged. "Actually, he doesn't know I'm here," he answered softly. "I can't find him anywhere, either."

Pinhead laughed. "Did you try our room? He hasn't left it in like… days. I don't think he's anywhere down here."

"Why hasn't he left your room?" Mush asked.

Pinhead stared at him. "Uh, I think you should fucking ask _him_ that. But I'm pretty fucking sure it has something to do with you." He laughed cheerfully. "You know which room it is, don't you?"

Mush nodded. "Yeah. Thanks, Pinhead. Nice to meet you. You too, Charlie." Charlie nodded an acknowledgment into his drink. "Catch you guys later."

"Go cheer him up!" Pinhead shouted after him. "Skitts fucking _sucks_ when he's in a pissy mood!"

Mush crossed to the staircase and climbed over a few couples strewn across various steps. Luckily, the stairs at the top were a lot less crowded, and he made it up the final four without stepping on anyone at all. He took a long stride to make it over a threesome spread out, blocking the second floor hallway, and made it to Skittery's room.

He knocked on the door.

"Occupied," Skittery yelled back, sounding angry.

He knocked again.

"I said there's somebody already fucking in here! Go use Morris's room or something!"

Mush knocked a third time.

"Jesus Christ!" he heard Skittery roar. "Fucking horny drunks! I _said_—" He flung open the door, and then his face immediately changed from anger to a smile when he saw Mush. Granted, it was a tiny, guarded smile, but it heartened Mush nonetheless.

"Can I come in?" he asked softly.

Skittery stepped aside, and Mush walked past him. Skittery closed the door behind him, and the party suddenly sounded miles away. Mush looked around. The room, which had been impeccable and tidy on Saturday night, was now in shambles.

"Sorry, I didn't know you were coming… hold on…" Skittery mumbled, hurriedly trying to scoop up some dirty laundry.

Mush sat on his bed. "Leave it, it doesn't matter," he said.

Skittery froze and dropped the clothes where they were. He went to his desk chair and sat down heavily in it. Mush waited for him to speak, which he did, after a few minutes of very tense silence. "You didn't call me."

"I know, and I'm sorry," Mush answered. "I just… I saw Blink at the gym that day." Skittery grimaced at Blink's name, but didn't say anything. "It really screwed me up, Skittery. It really, really did."

"You should have _called me_ and _told_ me," Skittery said angrily. "We could have talked about it. You didn't have to fucking shut me out."

Mush nodded. "I know. But… I needed to think things through. On my own. You know?"

Skittery wouldn't meet his gaze anymore. "You fucking blew me off. After I did so much for you!"

"Well… that was part of it," Mush admitted. "Skittery, I got freaked out by the amount of money you spent on me. On the amount of time you spent on me. On the amount of thought that went into the gifts you gave me. It just… on the one hand, it just seemed like you were trying to bribe me or something, but then… it was just incredible to have someone admit to caring that much about me, you know?" He stared at the carpet. There were chocolate sauce stains all over it. "I just… I feel… inadequate, I guess. Or something. And… it's hard to leave Blink behind. It just _is_. We dated since long before he became Kid Blink and I became Mush. We've known each other since junior high, and we began dating back when I was still Micah, and he was still Logan Fields. We've been together so long, it's just… it's weird to not be with him."

"I've liked you since before you became Mush, too," Skittery said softly. "Since the first time I saw you, in French 100. You were just starting out as a freshman, and I was a sophomore who was already jaded about college and just wanted to get my damn foreign language requirement out of the way. You were so nervous, but there was something about you, Micah Meyers. I don't know what it was, but as soon as I saw you, I knew it. I knew that you were what I had been looking for."

Mush looked up at him, and was surprised to find that Skittery was now looking at him again, and this time, without a fire-filled glare. His eyes were now the way they had been the night of the auction: soft around the edges, and tender. Mush couldn't help but smile at them, and bask in them. Those eyes went soft for _him_. And _that_ was what had brought him here tonight. "Logan used to look at me that way," he said softly, almost to himself. "But it's been a long time since he last did." He pushed himself off the bed and walked toward Skittery, who stood up as well. "I love that you look at me like that. It's better than spending money on me, or letting loose butterflies in my room. Because those things are nice, but they aren't what convinced me to come here tonight."

"Five classes, though," Skittery said quietly, as he wrapped his arms around Mush. "We've had five classes together, and you never noticed me in any of them. You never noticed me until I spent the money on you."

Mush looked up at him. "I'm sorry for that," he said softly. "Really, I am. But you don't need to worry about me not noticing you anymore. I'm going to spend a lot more of my time noticing you from now on."

Skittery gave a little smile. "Should I go get my chocolate syrup from the fridge?" he joked. "You're looking a little clean."

Mush smiled, leaning up and kissing him. "It's even better without it," he whispered back.

* * *

"We've picked the longest song in the history of forever," Bumlets griped. "Why the hell are we singing an eight and a half minute song, again?"

Swifty glared at him. "Because I happen to _like_ Meat Loaf, that's why."

"But—"

"Look, if you don't want to sing it with me, you can go sing with your little roommate and his band of misfits."

Bumlets thought about the random group assembled in his room at that moment, and shook his head. "No, you're right. Definitely a Meat Loaf kinda mood I'm in, no doubt about it. I wouldn't dream of singing anything but Meat Loaf. No way, no how. Nosiree bob. Uh-uh."

"Okay, that was slightly overkill," Swifty said, rolling his eyes. "Now let's see, what should our outfits be…"

"We have to dress up!" Bumlets said. "No way, because I'm singing the girl's part! I am not doing it in drag. This is already humiliating enough as it is!"

Swifty pouted. "Fine then. How about we wear our auction outfits from the Deltas?"

Bumlets stared at him. "Fine, fine, I'll do drag. God_damn_ you, Swifty. How the hell did I end up with such a manipulative best friend?"

Swifty raised an eyebrow. "Like you really care. Just be glad I'm here, or else you'd be up there howling away with Grouch and Snipeshooter."

Bumlets shuddered. "Good point."

Itey crept away from the kitchen doorframe, meeting Snitch in the living room. They headed up the stairs, giggling to themselves. "Bumlets and Swifty are doing Meat Loaf," he laughed, when they were safely back in their room with the door closed. "There's no _way_ they're beating us now!"

"We were worried for nothing!" Snitch crowed. "Come tomorrow, you and I will be sitting pretty with the trophy resting, in all its glory, right there on top of the dresser." They both looked toward Snitch's dresser as though it were sitting there already, sighed at its imaginary beauty, and then began soundproofing their room by shoving blankets into the crack under the door.

Snipeshooter dashed away from their door. "Bumlets and Swifty are doing Meat Loaf," he reported to the four boys lounging in Chocolate's room. "Snitch and Itey aren't saying what they're doing, but they seem to think it's better than Meat Loaf."

The boys in the room scoffed in unison. "Like anything is better than Meat Loaf," Chocolate declared.

"You said it, brother," Crutchy cried. Chocolate stared at him for a minute, then turned back to the rest of their group.

"Meat Loaf's good, but we have the ultimate drunk karaoke song of all times," he said, to get their morale up. "And we get major bonus points for using the Beatles, because nobody—and I mean nobody—dislikes the Beatles."

"Except Great Aunt Mildred, but that's understandable, since their tour bus ran over her famous cat and she lost her major source of income," Snipeshooter said. Everyone blinked at him. He shrugged. "It's true! It's not like I make up the stories of the great tragedies that have happened to my family!"

"Yeah, no great tragedy has befallen anyone else like that of losing the main breadwinner in the family," Grouch said, scowling. "Especially when the breadwinner is a _cat_."

"His name was Fifi, and he was the most famous member of my family!" Snipeshooter cried indignantly.

"Yeah, well, your family's stupid!" Grouch yelled back.

"Yeah, well, your mom's stupid!" Snipeshooter shouted. "No! Even better! _You're_ stupid! Ha!"

Chocolate rested his head in his hands. "Can we just practice our song?"

Crutchy was hobbling to the door. "No need to, Chocolate. Who doesn't know the words to our song? I, for one, have had it memorized since my older brothers used to sing it to me –"

"When you were in kindergarten, we know, we know, you've told us thirty times already," Grouch grumbled.

"Shut up!" Crutchy said, looking ruffled, which was unusual for him. "At least my brothers amounted to something, instead of being some boozehound loser…" Suddenly realizing what he said, he fell silent. "Oh. Ah-hah, don't listen to me. You see, my brain, it makes all of these mistakes…"

"_What_ did you say about my brother?" Grouch said, standing up and swelling to his greatest size, towering over Crutchy, who shied away, whimpering.

"Nothing, Grouch."

"Call me sir," Grouch said, glaring darkly.

"Yes—Yes, sir!" Crutchy said, before getting the door open and escaping from it, getting to his and Snoddy's room as fast as he could, and locking the door behind him.

Chocolate sighed. "I guess we'll just wing it tomorrow night, then, huh?"

Grouch and Snipeshooter were glaring at each other, though Snipeshooter was doing it with a twinge of fear mixed in. "Sounds good to me," Grouch said.

"Yeah. I think I need to … go back to the dorm." Snipeshooter squeaked as Grouch barked when he ran by on his way out the door.

"Congratulations," Chocolate said lightly. "That's the first time I've seen him go back to the dorm willingly since he pledged Lambda."

Grouch put on his bowler hat, nodding. "I do what I can." He sauntered out the door, still glaring around.

Looking around, Chocolate realized that Boots had fallen asleep sometime during their meeting. He shook him awake. "The meeting's over, go sleep in your room," he told him.

"Oh. Good idea," Boots said, yawning. He got up and trudged out of the room.

Chocolate sank back to his bed. "Good God, I can't wait until tomorrow's contest is over," he sighed to himself.

* * *

"I need a shot. Or maybe an entire bottle would be a better idea," Bumlets said, looking at his reflection in the mirror affixed to the back of the bedroom door in dismay. "Oh, my God, Chocolate. Why do I let him talk me into things?"

Chocolate shrugged. "I think you make a mighty pretty drag queen, myself."

"Shut it," Bumlets growled. "Get me some alcohol, would you?"

Chocolate walked to their closet and opened it, grabbing bottles from the shelf behind their hanging clothing. He walked to Bumlets' desk, lined up four shot glasses, and filled them with coconut rum. "Are you still gonna tell him tonight?" he asked quietly.

Bumlets took out his stud earrings, replacing them with big fake pearl gaudy ones. He made a face in the mirror at Chocolate. "I dunno," he answered slowly. "It's just… I mean, Swifty's such a good friend. If I tell him that I like him, what if it messes everything up?"

"But it's already not perfect, if you're hiding things like this from him," Chocolate countered. "C'mon, let's do some shots."

Bumlets nodded, crossing the room to the desk. He took one in each hand, and Chocolate did the same. "To knowing what Sarah Jessica Parker's singing about in those Gap commercials now – I enjoy being a girl," Bumlets said dryly, holding up the two small glasses.

Chocolate laughed. "To hopefully never knowing how enjoyable it is to be a girl," he countered, hitting his shot glasses against Bumlets'. They downed them.

Across the hall, Mush was staring in his closet. "Oh, my God, I have nothing to wear," he said, throwing his arms up helplessly. "That's it. Call Skittery, tell him not to come. I can't wear anything in my damn wardrobe!"

"Calm down!" Pie Eater said. "Goodness. Here." He got up and walked over, picked out Mush's tightest pair of jeans and a pink and white pinstriped button-down shirt. "Like that was so hard."

Mush was staring at the clothing doubtfully. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. Put them on."

Mush obeyed, then looked at his reflection. "…Okay. Good call, Pie."

Pie Eater shrugged. "You know me, your little fashion consultant."

Mush turned to scrutinize him in response. "Yes, well, Carson, put that collar down before I do it for you."

"Huh?"

Mush walked over and lay the collar flat for him. "Nobody likes a popped collar. Something _else_ popped up… well, not many boys in this house will argue with that. But popped collars? Uh, no."

Pie Eater pouted, but shrugged and left the collar how Mush had left it. Mush began searching for shoes, but was startled by a rapid rapping sound. Looking over sharply, he was surprised to see Pie Eater knocking on the wall. "…Pie, what are you doing?"

Pie Eater looked slightly ashamed. "Well… you see, Snoddy and I figured out that our beds are separated only by this little wall, so…"

"Please do not tell me that you made up a knocking system with your boyfriend," Mush said, sighing. "Please, Pie, you live next door to the bum. It would take you all of five seconds to get out of bed and go over to his room and talk to him in person. That is, if he can't already hear us talking through the wall." Mush climbed on Pie Eater's bed and pressed his face to it, yelling into the plaster, "HIIII, SNODDY!"

"Thanks, Mush," Pie Eater said, pouting.

"No, no, it's cute. Really. It is." Turning away, Mush let himself indulge in a horrified face. He went back to looking for his shoes.

Down the hall, in the room on the other side of Snoddy and Crutchy's, Snitch was trying his hardest to coax Itey into an outfit straight from the 80s.

"I am not wearing that, Snitch. I don't care what you say. I'm not," Itey screeched, as Snitch chased him around with a black miniskirt.

"C'mon! You'll be the hottest bell of the ball!" Snitch wheedled. "How about this gold sweater with shoulder pads at least, then, huh? And we'll tease your hair. C'mon."

"Tease your own hair!" Itey said, sounding slightly hysterical. "If you make me wear that, I'm not going on."

"But Itey, we practiced it with you as the girl! You've gotta wear the outfit! C'mon, I'm gonna look like just as much of a dumbass. I'm wearing rejects from the wardrobe of Wham! here." He pointed to his short shorts and cut-off sweatshirt, topped off with a hat straight from Boy George's repertoire, pushed back far on his head. He beamed. "We'll look fabulous, I swear!"

Itey shook his head. "Not doing it. I don't care what you do. I refuse."

Snitch walked up behind him and kissed his neck, wrapping his arms around his torso from behind. "I promise I'll make it up to you later tonight. You can do whatever you like to me."

Itey's lips pursed at the proposal. "Anything?"

"Anything," Snitch purred.

"Be prepared," Itey warned, turning and grabbing the skirt. "You're gonna owe me _big_."

"Looking forward to it," Snitch responded, kissing his jaw.

The triple was, for the first time all year, turning into a double. "You guys can't kick me out!" Swifty cried indignantly. "I live here too!"

"But we have to get ready. You know we're singing a duet, and you're…" Dutchy lowered his voice conspiratorially. "…Competition."

Swifty pouted, but to no avail. He found himself sitting firmly outside a minute later, with his keys just as firmly locked inside. "Go practice with your little friend!" had been the suggestion forced upon him by Specs as he shoved him out the door.

He was about to head to Bumlets' room, for lack of other things to do, when David came around the corner, looking… well, drunk. Swifty had never seen him drunk before.

"Hi, Swifty," David said, his eyes unnaturally wide. "I'm going to visit Jack."

Swifty smiled, bemused. "Good idea, David." David nodded and continued walking, stumbling into the wall. He knocked on Cowboy's door.

"Hold on," Cowboy shouted, and Swifty, peeking over, saw that when Cowboy opened the door, he was only half-dressed. "Hey, Dave," he said comfortably, even slightly… friendlier than Swifty had heard him sound before. "What's up?" David pushed him backward into the room and closed the door behind them.

Swifty could not let _this_ pass him by. He walked over and pressed his ear to the door.

David sat down heavily in Cowboy's desk chair, spinning around. "Whee!" he cried, giggling.

"Dave, are you… drunk?" Cowboy asked, although this was more than a little obvious.

"Yes. And I got the alcohol from your best friend, so you cannot yell at me!" David grinned at him. "Ugh, no more spinning," he decided, halting the chair. "But I had to drink, because tonight…" He leaned forward and gestured to Cowboy to come closer, which he did. Expecting a whisper, he was blown away when David instead shouted in his face, "Tonight I sing a song for Mush!"

Cowboy ran a hand through his hair. "You sure about that, Dave? I mean… you're plastered…"

David grinned. "Sure am! There's no way I could have gone up there without being drunk. Remember last year?"

"You sang 'For The Weekend' with Mush and Swifty and won the competition, especially with the striptease you guys threw in. So what?"

"So I puked about thirty billion times before going onstage! I get stage fright. Real bad. But Race said that drinking helps! So I drank!"

"That you did. I'm gonna have to kick your roommate's ass," Cowboy said, frowning.

"How about you, Jack? You singing to anyone special tonight?" David asked, leaning back in the chair and kicking his feet.

Cowboy smiled. "Yeah. But… I think I'd better not tell you about it while you're in this condition."

"Will you tell me later? When I sober up?" David pressed.

Cowboy closed his eyes, willing away his butterflies. "Sure. Sure, if you remember and still want to know."

David nodded. "I will remember. I always remember. I have a good remembery, Jack." He hit his temple with two fingers. "I'm a freaking _genius_, it seems. Swear." He suddenly seemed to notice Jack's shirtlessness. "You don't even have a shirt on, Jack!"

"Yeah, I know, I was getting dressed when you… stopped by," Cowboy answered. He reached over and picked up his abandoned t-shirt from its spot on his bed.

David stood up. "Let me," he said, a flirty look overtaking his face. He grabbed the shirt and stood expertly in front of Cowboy. "Arms up," he said. "C'mon, I used to do this all the time when my little brother was still a baby."

Cowboy decided to humor him, and put his arms out. Though it took him a good while to figure out how to hold the t-shirt right, David finally succeeded in getting the shirt on Cowboy's arms, and then he started to slide it on over his head. Cowboy was pretty sure he had stopped breathing long ago, and when David suddenly leaned up and began kissing his chest, his face burst into flames. He was glad that David had forgotten that the shirt wasn't over his head yet so that he could die without anyone seeing the shade of red he had taken on. He was fully aware of how stupid they looked – he was standing with his arms in the air, thrust into sleeves, with the rest of the shirt encasing his face, while his drunk crush was kissing his still-bare chest. He struggled a little to pull the shirt on correctly, then looked square at David.

"Sorry," David mumbled. "It's just… I don't know. You just… looked so good. Sorry." He turned and stumbled to the door.

"Is that all you have to say?" Cowboy demanded, hoping for more but knowing he wouldn't receive it.

David turned back around and sauntered back over. The flirty look was still in his eye. He kissed Cowboy's neck, then his jaw, and the corner of his mouth. "No. _That's_ all I have to say," he said, then burst into giggles and ran from the room. He ran smack into Swifty, still crouched outside the door. "Hiii, Swifty!"

"Hi, David," Swifty answered, sounding exhausted. David giggled as he ran down the hallway. Swifty stuck his head in Cowboy's door. "You okay?"

Cowboy looked up at him. "Fine. I just… hate alcohol."

Swifty nodded. "It'll be okay, Cowboy." He walked in and hugged him, and was surprised when the hug he received back was clinging, clutching him so hard he was shocked that his ribs didn't crack.

"Don't tell anyone, okay?" Cowboy asked, sounding dismal.

Swifty smiled. "Wouldn't dream of it," he answered, and he meant it, though two minutes ago he had been preparing to run to Bumlets' room to spread the new gossip. "Crushes suck, don't they?"

Cowboy snorted in agreement. "Yeah. Now I need to get drunk, or I'm gonna kill myself when he sings to Mush."

"I thought you hated alcohol."

Cowboy nodded. "Hate it so much I love it."

"Would you care to share some of your loved-hated alcohol with a cute underage boy named Swifty?" Swifty said.

Cowboy smiled at him. "Sure, it'll be a bribe so that you don't tell anyone what you overheard."

"Wahoo!" Swifty cried, then sat down at Cowboy's desk.

* * *

"Next thing I knew, she was all up on me screaming, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah…"

"Who okayed this?" Skittery whispered to Mush.

Mush shrugged. "I have no idea. Certainly not anyone sane, that's for sure." They laughed, then continued to watch the warm-up act of Crutchy singing Usher's "Yeah!"

People were still wandering downstairs from getting ready in their rooms, and everyone who had promised to come to watch the mayhem was still trickling in through the front door.

"Take that and rewind it back, Crutchy got the voice to make your booty go –" Crutchy clapped.

"Oh, dear God," Mush moaned, burying his face in Skittery's shoulder. "Is it over?"

"Luckily, it is," Skittery answered as Crutchy got off the makeshift stage set up in front of the window seat in their living room. They had rearranged the room for the contest, and everyone had brought down all of the pillows and blankets available in their rooms so that everyone other than those who got the leather couch (the best seating, but in the very back of the room) got semi-comfortable places to sit. "Unfortunately, now sad silence reigns." He poked Mush's shoulder. "You should go sing."

"We're singing later, though," Mush answered, poking him back. A smile danced around his lips.

Bumlets, who was having a hard time trying to find a comfortable way to sit without flashing everyone in his dress, turned around. "Yeah, Mush. Go sing. C'mon, it's not like it's the real competition yet. And you're following _Crutchy_ singing _Usher_. Please."

Mush shrugged and stood up. "Okay, then, I will." He went over to Cowboy and Swifty, who were co-running the karaoke machine. "Put in whatever, I'll sing it."

"You got it," Cowboy answered, pushing in a random set of buttons. He handed Mush a microphone. "Have fun!"

"You're trashed out of your mind, aren't you?" Mush asked.

Swifty nodded, looking exasperated. "He is. And I'm trying to program in the numbers, but he won't stop pushing random buttons." Cowboy reached for the machine again, but Swifty swatted at his hands. "No! Bad Cowboy!"

"Your song's starting," Cowboy told Mush, grinning.

Mush listened to the intro. "The Monkees? Really? …Oh, okay then." He climbed on the stage. Skittery catcalled. Mush laughed at him, and then began crooning, singing "I'm A Believer" while looking directly at Skittery. When he sang, "Then I saw his face, now I'm a believer, not a trace of doubt in my mind, I'm in love— I'm a believer, I couldn't leave him if I tried," Bumlets pretended to be a prepubescent girl (looking very much the part already, he could hardly resist) and flung himself at the stage, screaming. Mush played to it, holding out a hand as if to an adoring audience, which Bumlets caught a hold of and then proceeded to scream about even louder. Mush blew him a kiss when the song was over, and Bumlets pretended to swoon.

"I'm never washing my hand again!" he screamed. "Mush Meyers held it!"

Cowboy got up on stage while Mush and Bumlets, smirking, went back to their seats on a couple of body pillows. Everyone had assembled by this point, so Boots hit the main light switch off, Specs turned on the spotlight, and the crowd applauded politely.

"Hey," Cowboy said, swaying slightly. "Welcome to the fifteenth annual Lambda Delta Lambda karaoke competition!" Everyone cheered. "Our first act is the annual make-a-stupid-freshman-go-first song! I'm sure you all remember last year, when we were serenaded by Crutchy with 'Baby Got Back.' This year, give it up for Snipeshooter!"

Snipeshooter, wearing a leprechaun outfit complete with green-and-white striped tights, climbed on the stage and grabbed the microphone. "Thank youuu, Cowboy!" he said excitedly. "This one goes out to Great Aunt Mildred and Fifi. Hit it, fellas!"

He began to sing a rather offkey, lackluster version of the Beatles' "Yellow Submarine," which caused Chocolate to worry about how good he would be when their group got up to sing. The worst part was when Snipeshooter found the need to make the sounds of the submarine along with the background noise before the third verse.

Everyone was more than a little relieved when he got offstage, to be replaced by Cowboy. "…Thanks, Snipeshooter, for upholding our tradition of stupid freshman-ness. That was utterly stupid." Snipeshooter saluted happily as he flounced off to find his cushion again. "Next up, we have that formidable foe, Racetrack Higgins, with his rendition of… 'Sexbomb'!"

Racetrack strutted on stage, and everyone gasped. He had waited to make his entrance until after all the lights were down, and with good cause. He was wearing black patent leather short shorts, a dog collar, thigh-high combat boots, and was carrying a whip. And nothing else.

"Good fucking God," Mush whispered.

"You're fucking hot!" Spot yelled from the back of the room.

No one really paid much attention to Racetrack's accuracy to the words of the song. They were all much more distracted by the way he kept cracking his whip against the floor and the way he was more whimpering the words to the song than actually singing them. He only humped the ground once, which Chocolate was grateful for. Last year, while wearing a much more tame outfit, he had done it so many times they had to stop his song and disinfect the stage before continuing with the competition.

"That was… wow. Tom Jones never did that song justice," Cowboy said, as Racetrack whipped him on his way offstage. "Ow! Ooh, that was kinky. Anyhow, to cleanse your minds – here's Chocolate, Crutchy, Boots, Snipeshooter, and Grouch – oh, and some redheaded kid that the Betas brought along – singing 'With A Little Help From My Friends' by the Beatles!"

The large group clambered on stage, but only got halfway through before Grouch got mad and chased Crutchy, who was practically so panicked by the intimidation that he was bleating, off-stage, with all intentions of seriously hurting him. Boots and Snipeshooter were so off-pitch that Chocolate just stopped singing, and they took their cues from him and dropped out too. The song finished with only Pinhead, who took advantage of the situation to add in a few swear words and finished with a nice loud vibrato.

"Thanks, guys, that was… not nearly good. Anyhow. Next up is a fun little surprise! Something syrupy sweet, which all you lovebirds will appreciate. I give you—Skittery-who-is-a-Beta-but-is-dating-a-Lambda, singing 'I Knew I Loved You' by the greats, Savage Garden!" Cowboy led the applause.

Mush knew that it was indeed syrupy sweet, but he didn't care. Skittery pulled him up on stage with him, and sang without looking at the little blue lyrics-screen once. Mush had no choice but to melt. It was generally agreed by the greater audience to be one of the more nauseating acts of the night, but Mush didn't mind that at all.

"That was… revolting. Thanks, go sit down, you gross happy people," Cowboy said, scoffing. "Next up…" He squinted at his note cards. "Nope, that's not it." He shuffled it to the back. "Next up is that scinti… that skinti… oh, fuck that. That adorable couple, Snitch and Itey, singing—"

"No, it's not!" David piped up, standing up and nearly falling back down. "It's my turn, Jack! I go after Skittery! I checked the schedule!" He was tripping over people in his attempt to get toward the stage.

"There's a schedule?" Snitch asked Itey, who shrugged, not having known about it, either.

"Dave, you're trashed. I don't think you want to—" It was saying something when Cowboy, who was trashed himself, was preaching to other people.

David made it to the stage and grabbed the microphone. "This one goes out… to Mush Meyers." Mush stared at him, then looked at Skittery, then stared at David again. Not even waiting for Swifty to cue up the music, David began wailing a capella into the microphone. "They read you Cindereeeeeeeeeeeella, you hoped it would come truuuuuuuue, and one day your Prince Charming would come rescue youuuuu…"

"All 4 One's 'I Can Love You Like That'?" Skittery asked, quirking an eyebrow. "Interesting choice."

"What the hell is he doing?" Mush wondered.

Cowboy luckily wrestled the microphone away before David could do much more damage. "Thanks for that, David," he said, patting him on the back. "Go over there, Swifty has a nice chair for you."

"A chair for me?" David squealed. "Oh, okay!"

"Now that the drunken interlude is over – another fine Lambda tradition, I assure you – I give you Snitch and Itey, singing 'Love Shack' by the B-52's!"

It was the best act thus far, although everyone thought it was a bit unfair of Snitch to steal the microphone right before Itey's biggest line to screech the "Tin roof rusted!" line, when Itey had even dressed up in super 80s drag. However, they forgave him because he was wearing a fabulous cut-off sweatshirt and short shorts.

"And now," Cowboy said, striking a pose. "I give you… me! I'll be singing 'Livin' On A Prayer' by those princes of rock, Bon Fucking Jovi!" He struck a pose while Swifty cued up his music.

It was the perfect drunk serenade everyone hoped for. He screeched with the best of them, perfectly upholding his reputation for drunken karaoke. It wasn't as bad as it could have been, so the audience applauded him heartily, though not as much as they had for Snitch and Itey.

"If Skittery gets to sing, then I get to, too," Spot decided, climbing on the stage. He shouted over to Swifty, " 'No Sleep Till Brooklyn,' if you please! Beastie Boys!" Swifty shrugged and put it on. Spot jumped around the stage, shouting the lyrics at the top of his lungs. It was actually a pretty decent Beastie Boys impersonation, and the audience nodded to each other and gave him a decent reception. He grinned as he got offstage and headed straight for the back, darkest corner, where Racetrack and his whip were waiting.

"Next up… yet another gross ballad sung by a goopy couple! That's right, give it up for Pie Eater and Snoddy with their rendition of 'Come To My Window'."

The crowd wasn't expecting much, but Pie Eater and Snoddy actually did a very nice job, singing in harmony and trading off on verse lyrics. They were well rehearsed, and were dressed in tuxes, and their show was so tasteful – particularly after the other ones of the evening – that the audience embraced them. They got a standing ovation when they climbed offstage.

Bumlets and Swifty's "Paradise By the Dashboard Lights" by Meat Loaf was an absolute smash, garnering them even more of a response than Pie Eater and Snoddy got. Skittery and Mush's "Love Will Keep Us Alive" by the Eagles made everyone sigh, because they looked so happy to be singing at each other. It just wasn't enough to touch Bumlets and Swifty's record. Mush put it in perspective, though, when he pointed out that there was no way they could have beaten Bumlets in drag. He was just too damn pretty.

Specs and Dutchy smiled as they got onstage after Cowboy announced them. Dutchy was holding an acoustic guitar, and he motioned to Swifty that they didn't need their preprogrammed track. He began playing the chords on the guitar, not sounding half bad. "This goes out to our dear roommate, Swifty," he called to the crowd, who all said "aww" in mock seriousness. "If I had a million dollars," Dutchy sang.

"If I had a million dollars," Specs backed up, looking a bit like Bobbi Culp from Saturday Night Live with the amount of concentration he was putting into the song.

"I would buy you a house," Dutchy sang.

"I would buy you a house," Specs reaffirmed.

They continued singing their favorite Barenaked Ladies song, and while the audience thought it was a fun ditty, they were confused as to its relevance to Swifty – particularly when the two bespectacled boys sang together, "I'd buy your love."

Toward the end of the song, however, Specs made a head motion to Bumlets, whom he had employed to run the spotlight. Bumlets made it move over to the right of the stage, while Specs and Dutchy walked with its beam over to Swifty. They sat on either of his legs, which was a bit awkward with the guitar.

"If I had a million dollars," Dutchy sang, and after Specs repeated it, he added, "I would buy you a monkey."

"Haven't you always wanted a mon_key_?" Specs asked. Swifty nodded in agreement, laughing.

They finished the rest of the song sitting on Swifty's lap, ending with the lovely finishing line of "If I had a million dollars, I'd be rich."

The crowd loved them, understandably, because they hadn't felt the need to resort to cheap tricks to win. There was also the added bonus of Swifty leaning up and kissing Specs with relish, then breaking away and moving to French kiss Dutchy instead. Then, when they broke apart, Specs and Dutchy began to kiss.

Cowboy, drunk and yet still able to see where this was going, stood up and made motions for Bumlets to put the spotlight back on the stage. Bumlets, like all the other members of the frat, continued to merely stare at the three boys, though his openmouthed stare had a twinge of sorrow in it.

"Ya know, I always wondered about that triple," Racetrack said, from his corner.

"Bumlets! Spotlight! Over here! Before we lose the audience!" Cowboy shouted, leaping on the stage. Bumlets finally came to and swung the beam of the light back onto Cowboy. "Heh, heh… well. I can honestly say that that has never happened in Lambda karaoke history before." He squinted off to the side. "Are they still—? Oh. They are. Okay, so let's give a big round of applause to Specs and Dutchy… and, I suppose, their roommate, Swifty… Yeah. Wow. Okay, next up, we have our social member!"

"What?" Mush whispered hastily.

"What's wrong?" Skittery, who had been taking advantage of the darkness to nibble at his neck, whispered back.

"Our only social member is…" Mush let out a groan as the singer walked onstage. "Blink."

Skittery went rigid, like a dog protecting his house from an intruder. "If he does anything…"

Blink cleared his throat. "Thanks, Cowboy. This one goes out to… well. You know who you are." Though the spotlight was in his eyes, he glared at exactly the spot where Mush and Skittery were. Mush gulped and tried to hide in Skittery's shoulder. "My tears are fallin', 'cause you've taken him away. And though it really hurts me so, there's something that I've gotta say. Take good care of my baby, please don't ever make him blue. Just tell him that you love him, make sure you're thinking of him, in everything you say and do. Oh, take good care of my baby, now don't you ever make him cry. Just let your love surround him, paint rainbow all around him, don't let him see a cloudy sky."

"Jesus H. Christ," Skittery said, half-rising. "Why is he here?"

"Don't," Mush whispered, pulling him back down. "Please, it'll just make it worse."

"So take good care of my baby, be just as kind as you can be. And if you should discover that you don't really love him, just send my baby back home to me." Not even bothering to finish the song, Blink dropped the microphone to the stage and stalked off it. He angrily wiped away tears.

Skittery was up and out of his seat before Mush could stop him. He met Blink at the door. "What's the big idea?" he hissed, over the applause that Cowboy was encouraging the audience to participate in. "He's happy with me. Why are you trying to ruin that?"

Blink stared back. "He was happy with me. Why did you have to go and ruin _that_?"

Skittery shook his head. "He wasn't, though. You can ask him yourself, instead of stalking him and making him worry…"

"I am not stalking him!" Blink shot back. "I'm just…"

"Look, Blink. It's cute that you guys were first boyfriends and everything. Honestly, it's adorable. But you guys just don't have anything in common anymore." Skittery lowered his voice. "And I'm pretty damn sure I saw you being sketchy, looking in windows of this house last night. If I ever catch you doing it again, I'll kick your ass. Stop messing with his head."

"I'm not messing with his head!"

Skittery threw up his arms. "Then why the hell were you hiding in the bushes outside last night when he and I came here to escape my house?"

"I wasn't… I was…" Blink's face was flushing. "You just don't get it, do you? Mush and I are supposed to be together. We just are."

"Don't you want him to be happy?"

Blink glared at him. "That's a low blow."

Skittery shrugged. "I'm just asking. Don't you?"

"Of course I do," Blink spat back.

Skittery gave him a pointed look. "I'm making him happy. I'm taking care of him. And I'm doing everything you just said in that song… I'm just not going to send him back to you."

Blink wound up and began punching Skittery. "It isn't fair!" he screamed, drowning out Specs' rather amusing deadpan version of "Pretty Fly (For A White Guy)". "It just isn't! I didn't do anything to deserve this!"

Skittery didn't punch back, though his fists were clenched and it was obvious that this was a real struggle. Mush finally intervened after the third punch was thrown, standing in between them. Blink, who wouldn't dream of punching Mush, lowered his fists. Mush glared at him, unable to believe that this was his same sweet little Blink, before turning and hugging Skittery. "You okay?" he murmured to him.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Skittery answered, hugging him back and letting his hands unclench. Kid Blink turned and stormed outside.

Up on stage, Specs decided to add in some jazz hands to get the attention back on himself. "Give it to me, baby! Uh-huh, uh-huh!" he called, with a wide, fake grin.

Mush kissed Skittery. "This will get better," he said, pressing their foreheads together.

"Even if it doesn't… you're worth it," Skittery answered, giving him a kiss back.

* * *

**Shoutouts!**

**Charlie Bird: ** I love the Javid in this story. OMG. Okay, so I really just love the David. But whatever, Jack isn't as evil as I normally make him. Er. And there, Pieddy. Be happy. :P Now where's –my- promised Pieddy? EH? EH! …Yeah. I love you, my Pet:D You are such fun.

**Queen Kez the Wicked:** You are my hero and I adore you. :D I'm so glad you found Oh Captain, my Captain, since nobody else did. And you are the only person who would be so happy about me giving Swifty cranberry juice. :D Now, when you left the review saying "Two words: Savage Garden"… was this good? Or bad:D Hee.

**Pyromaniacal Llama:** I had to make –someone- have a crush on Antonio. Mostly because I've been living on Evita lately, but… ya know. Uh. Sorry about the destruction of Blush? –isn't really sorry but pretends really hard like she is!- :D

**Twilight-maiden:** Yeah, Race has his moments. Hee. He also has nymophaniac sprees. –nods- He's an interesting boy. :D Yes, usually Blush are inseparable in my world too… until Sita and I invented Skush. Now Skittery and Mush trade off on every other week and holidays. :D And the Blush isn't gonna get better. : Sorry!

**Erin Go Bragh:** Oh, who doesn't love slash? Besides my mother. Aha. And I love Savage Garden. "Affirmation" was like… the anthem of my life in high school, hahaha. Yeah, classwork sucks… I've done about zero of my homework over break… I've been too busy writing this. : Whoops? LOL, but I'm glad you liked the Javid last chapter, because I adored it. :D Thanks for the review!

**Stage:** Hey… -looks around for drywit!specs- I need him back, he's currently singing "Pretty Fly (For A White Guy)."Swisputchy is my newest brainchild and love. You're the only one who commented on it (well, Charlie knew about it, but that's because I can't keep any secrets to myself). –loves!-

**Strawberri Shake:** Yay! I'm glad:D And indeed, Antonio teh sex. I love Pie Eater, and I knew if I put him in the story, Keza would review. So I did! And she did! Woo! Haha. I love Snittery, but I love Snitey too. Lately I've been in a Snitey mood, since I've been writing Skush… Yes. And there. Skush kissed. XD Thanks for your reviews and keeping up with the story:D

**Studentnumber24601:** I'm pretty sure you're back to hating me after this chapter, so… apology? –hopeful grin of knowing she's the bane of your existence right now but still adoring you?- And know that no matter what Mush and Skittery do, I still adore you. Honestly!

**Omni:** Your reviews the best. Just so you know. :D

* * *

And now, since this chapter is already longer than a mother, I'm out. –lessthanthrees!- Please review:D


	7. Squirrel Hunt

Chapter 6: Squirrel Hunt

Written: March 28-April 6, 2005

Author: Mondie

Disclaimer: Newsies equal sign Disney's. Plot equal sign Mondie's.

* * *

David woke up on Cowboy's floor shirtless, wrapped in a soft, fuzzy blanket, with the most screamingly obnoxious headache of his life. It took him over a minute to figure out where he was, and even then he had no idea _why_ he was on Cowboy's floor, or where his shirt was. Not to mention the fact that, honestly, if there was one thing David hated more than anything else in the world, it was chicken quesadillas; if there were two things he hated, they were chicken quesadillas and headaches.

He shifted and his body screamed in protest. He felt _awful_. He finally realized that his blue t-shirt was under his head as a pillow, and he struggled to sit up.

"Morning," said a voice from above and behind him. He looked over at the bed, and saw that Cowboy was already awake and sitting on top of the untidy covers, reading.

"…Morning," David responded, amazed at how calm Cowboy sounded when his own mind was freaking out at its inability to remember anything that had happened since evening the night before. "Do you know why I'm in your room?"

Cowboy chuckled, but looked hardly amused. "Do you remember anything about last night, Dave?" He swung his legs to the ground and patted the bed beside him. "It's comfier up here, come join me."

David obeyed, leaving the blanket and shirt on the floor and crawling over to the bed, pulling himself onto it slowly. "Advil? Water?" Cowboy continued, handing the items to David, who gratefully took some of each.

"As far as my mind's concerned, last night didn't happen at all. I don't remember anything." David paused and looked over at Cowboy. "What does that mean?"

"Means you were drunk as hell," Cowboy answered, smirking. "God, Dave, you did some stupid stuff last night."

David suddenly looked alarmed. "What do you mean?"

Cowboy rolled his eyes. "I mean, you let Racetrack get you drunk and then you got on stage at the karaoke contest and sang 'I Can Love You Like That' with a dedication to Mush."

"I _didn't_!" David exclaimed, sounding horrified. "Oh… oh, Jack, this is no good. No good at _all_."

"Then you proceeded to follow him and Skittery around all night, asking him to sign your arm in Sharpie for God knows what reason. You also called your sister on my cell phone to tell her that you loved her, and you painted your toenails yellow, while simultaneously painting half the carpet in the living room. You showed us that you can juggle four oranges – or at least you probably could have, if you weren't drunk – and tried to add a watermelon to that trick… which probably wasn't your best idea."

"Oh, my God," David said, pressing a hand to his forehead. "I don't remember _any_ of this."

"I'm not done," Cowboy answered, smiling with more than a little satisfaction, glad that at least now David was feeling remorse for his actions the night before. "You tore off your shirt and proclaimed yourself King of the Underworld. Snipeshooter made you a cape made out of a towel and Racetrack convinced you to try and fly off the back of the couch, which I still don't really understand, because I didn't know that King of the Underworld was a flying superhero. Anyhow. You're probably going to be sore for a few days, because when you jumped, you tried to swan dive. Ooh, I was right; check out that _bruise_," Cowboy said, sounding awed as he inspected Dave's upper body.

"I'm bruised?" David squeaked.

"Yeah," Cowboy said, pointing at the back of his arm. "Right here."

David yelled and moved his arm away. "Don't touch it!"

"I'm not going to hurt you," Cowboy answered, rolling his eyes. He reached out again and gingerly touched the large purple circle. "Jesus, Dave."

"Does it look bad?" David asked, striving in vain to see it himself.

Cowboy looked up into David's face, meeting the big blue eyes that looked almost overwhelmingly frightened at the idea of a bruise. His curls were mussed, pushed to one side of his head, giving him a lopsided look. And Cowboy found that he couldn't have told David that _anything_ about him looked bad, any more than he could tell him that Mush had decided to sleep over at Skittery's to escape his stalking.

"Anyway," Cowboy said, realizing that he had been staring at David for just a little too long. "You also ate almost all of the pizza that Chocolate ordered for himself, so you should probably apologize for that. He wasn't mad about it, but it was slightly less than nice."

"Oh, God," David said, sounding awed. "So _this_ is why I don't drink." He paused a moment. "Wait a minute. How did I end up on your floor?"

Cowboy laughed, the first real laugh yet that morning. "Uh, your roommate and his boytoy… thing… decided they wanted to try a little… experimenting… with whips last night…. You came stumbling in here at four am whining about the whip hitting you accidentally too many times."

"Damn small room," David muttered. "Did I wake you up?"

"Yeah," Cowboy nodded. "I didn't mind, though."

David smiled up at him. "Thanks, Jack," he said softly. "I'm really glad you're always here for me."

Cowboy leaned over and jostled his leg. "Don't ever forget that I am, Dave." He smiled. "What are R.A.s for?"

David shook his head, meeting Cowboy's eyes with his own vibrant pair. "It's, 'what are _friends_ for?', Jack." He leaned closer and nestled into Cowboy's side, pouting. "My head huuuurts."

Cowboy raised his eyebrows but put an arm around David's bare shoulders, pulling him closer yet. "And so you whine as if you were five whenever you get a little headache?"

David glared, still pouting. "Yes," he said stubbornly. "Especially after I can't even remember last niiiiiight."

Cowboy didn't respond, just gently rubbed the soft skin of David's shoulder, wishing that everything that David did – even when he acted like a spoiled child – wasn't the most adorable thing he had ever seen in his life.

There was a soft, short knock on the door, and then it opened a crack. Mush's face appeared in it. "Oh, good, I didn't wake you up," he said cheerfully, opening the door all the way. "I was just coming to see if you knew where Davey was… looks like I found him." Mush suddenly grinned somewhat evilly at the two shirtless boys. "Well, wow. And just how well did _you_ find him, Cowboy? Oh, you guys are so cute, still cuddling the morning after." He laughed.

David flushed and fell to his knees, grabbing his shirt and pulling the wrinkled thing over his head, in his haste putting it on inside out. "We were just talking," he mumbled.

"Uh-huh. Listen, Davey, I think we should have a little talk. …Or at least I thought so after last night, but… I mean, if you're spending the night with Cowboy now… maybe sense has already been talked into you." He laughed his loud, infectious laugh, but neither Cowboy nor David joined in. Both looked politely mortified. "I mean, two out of three nights? Things are getting pretty serious. Next thing you know, you'll be dedicating your lovely rendition of 90s cheese pop songs to him!"

"Shut up, Mush," Cowboy said, standing up.

Mush burst out laughing. "Oh, come on, Cowboy. I'm just messing with you guys. Seriously, though, Davey… just… it was the alcohol talking last night, wasn't it?"

David looked grateful for the easy out. "Of course it was," he answered, a little too quickly. "Race… bet me I wouldn't pretend to be in love with you, and then when I got drunk, it just got… out of hand."

Cowboy nodded. "I bet he would do it. I made ten bucks. Race was pissed."

Mush grinned and hit David's arm in a friendly fashion, though unfortunately it was right where his bruise – now covered by his shirt's sleeve – was. David let out a yelp of pain, and Cowboy moved protectively toward him, placing a gentle hand on his wrist. David looked up at him, and was surprised by the almost fiercely caring look in Cowboy's eyes. Mush looked from one to the other, and wiggled his eyebrows. "_Sure_ you guys were 'just talking'," he said, winking as he headed out the door.

Cowboy took his hand away and turned back to his bed, hiding his flushing cheeks from David's piercing gaze.

Mush stuck his head back in. "And that was a nice little lie, but if you bet that he would do it, then why would you have tried to prevent him from singing karaoke to me last night?" Laughing, he blew Cowboy a kiss when he turned around, opening his mouth to come up with another lie. "Good try, Cowboy." Mush disappeared, closing the door behind him.

Cowboy turned back around, running his fingers through his hair, trying to remember the steps to breathe. He could sense David coming up behind him, and it made the steps even harder to remember. _1. Open mouth. 2. Inhale. 3. …Something._

"You tried to stop me from singing to him?" David asked, laying a hesitant hand on Cowboy's bare shoulder.

Cowboy smiled sadly to the wall. "Yeah. Yeah, Dave, I did."

"To save me from looking like an idiot?"

"Yeah." Cowboy swallowed. "Too bad it didn't work," he attempted to joke, turning and raising an eyebrow at David.

David gave an amused smirk, but it was short-lived and, Cowboy had a sneaking suspicion, as much for show as his own joke was. "That was really nice of you. Even if it didn't work."

Cowboy smiled. "No problem, Dave. I mean, we _are_ friends."

David moved closer to Cowboy and wrapped his arms around him, his fingers pressing into bare skin. Cowboy closed his eyes as he hugged David back, and an expression of pain crossed his face as he leaned his head down, his chin resting on David's shoulder. "Thanks, Jack," David said lightly into his neck. His hands began to write curlicues and circles on Cowboy's smooth skin, and he smiled when Cowboy embraced him tighter in response.

Cowboy knew the words could spill out easily, or that he could just make some small gesture – a kiss to end all kisses, perhaps – and all of the pain that he was feeling at that moment would be alleviated at once. David could accept or reject him, and it would be over either way. But that 50/50 chance of rejection made him seize up.

So Cowboy didn't say the words, or press his lips to David's perfect neck, or steal the kiss to end all kisses. He let go instead and stepped out of the hug, and David smiled a goodbye before heading out the door, hitting the doorframe three times as he passed it, as if to tap the three syllables of "goodbye, Jack."

Or, Cowboy's imagination realized, it could be three different syllables altogether: the ones that he himself silently called to David's back.

_I love you._

* * *

Bumlets was pretending to do homework while lying on his futon under his lofted bed, holding up his book dutifully but letting his mind wander to the night before. He still couldn't believe it. Swifty with anyone but himself was hard enough, but Swifty and Dutchy _and _Specs? How long had his best friend been hiding this from him? How had he never known? How had he never guessed?

His naïve stupidity had hit him all at once. He felt robbed, as if in one dastardly move, Swifty had stolen all of his innocence. Just yesterday he had been anticipating telling Swifty that he loved him, and that he had been in love with him since before they had even become friends. He had had it all planned out – after the karaoke competition, which they would undoubtedly win (at least _that_ part had gone as planned), he would invite Swifty back to his room for celebratory drinks, and they would fall onto the futon cuddling and talking like they had so many times before, only this time he would lean over and kiss him. Not just the kisses on the cheek that they had been giving each other since a week after they met, but a full, perfect kiss, and then he would pull away and tell Swifty about how he had wanted to do that for a year and a half, and then it would be up to Swifty to tell him to get lost or to say that maybe—just maybe, somewhere deep inside—he felt the same way.

And now, Bumlets had no chance of that happening.

Sighing, he finally threw his book to the foot of the futon and crawled off it. Chocolate wasn't in the room, thankfully, and so he gave no second thought to crossing to their closet, opening it, and leaning against the doorframe, just staring at the inside of the thin wooden door. The collage of pictures of himself and Swifty taped there, in thoughtful emulation of _Queer as Folk_'s homage to Michael in Ted's closet, was Chocolate's favorite thing to make fun of Bumlets for, so he had taken to staring at it only when Chocolate wasn't in the room. He didn't know how long he stood there, feeling tears well up and blinking them away before they could fall, but when the bedroom door suddenly opened, he sprang into action immediately. He slammed the closet shut, making Swifty, who was walking in casually, jump.

"Hey," he said cheerfully. "Just wanted to come congratulate us for being _awesome_ last night." He elbowed Bumlets' ribs. "We totally kicked ass." He winked. "And you were really hot in drag, too. If I were into chicks, I _so_ would've been all over you."

Bumlets forced a smile. "Guess we should just be glad you aren't into chicks then, huh?"

Swifty stared at him. "You okay? What's up?" Taking Bumlets' hand, he led him back to the futon and pushed him down onto it, sitting next to him and cuddling into his side. "Talk to me, Bummy," he said, and Bumlets had to smile at the ridiculous nickname. It was nearly _too_ vomit inducing, and that was what Swifty liked about it.

"I just… I didn't know that you and Dutchy and Specs…" Unable to finish the thought, he just shrugged.

"…_Oh_." Swifty fell silent for a minute. "Well. Um. It just started… well, in like September."

Bumlets closed his eyes. "It's _March_, Swifty."

"Yeah, I know." Swifty looked up at him. "I'm sorry, Bumlets. I didn't know how to tell you. You just… sometimes you just seem so pure, ya know? I didn't want to like… freak you out or anything."

Bumlets looked forward, not falling into the trap of looking into Swifty's dark eyes. "I'd rather you had told me than left me to be shocked along with the rest of the world at a damn karaoke competition," he answered testily.

Swifty's arms snaked across Bumlets' chest, holding him tightly. "I'm sorry," he said again. "Really, Bumlets. You're my best friend. I should have told you, you're right. I just… well, how do you bring up something like that?"

"You say, 'Hey, did you know that I'm screwing not just one of my roommates, but both of them?'" Bumlets was unable to keep the bitterness out of his tone. "It's not that hard, Swifty."

"…Something else is wrong, isn't it?" Swifty asked. "Something happen to you last night?"

Bumlets glared across the room at Chocolate's empty bed. "No, the only thing that happened last night was that my best friend felt the need to unveil in public that he's a whore, that's all."

"What!" Swifty cried. "I am _not_ a whore."

"Yes, you are!" Bumlets yelled back. "Even Race and Spot, who are well known as whores, stick to one other person!"

"That's what _you_ think," Swifty answered, his eyes burning angrily. "Have you ever asked them?"

Bumlets stared at him. "No."

"Exactly." Swifty sighed. "Bumlets, you're just so… innocent." He pushed himself to his feet. "No one tells you anything because you can't handle it."

Bumlets pulled away inside himself. "If that's true, then… you guys aren't my friends at all." He stared up at the ceiling, telling his tears that if they fell right now in front of Swifty, he would never be able to live with himself. They hardly listened to him.

Swifty crumbled when he saw the first tear falling from Bumlets' eye. "Oh, God, don't cry," he begged. "Bumlets, I'm sorry. I'll tell you about all threesomes and orgies and every sexual escapade I ever go on ever from now on, I swear…"

Bumlets wiped at his tears furiously. "No! Don't! Don't you get that that's the _last_ thing I want to hear?"

Swifty closed his eyes, frustrated. "So you get mad at me when I don't tell you things, but you threaten me when I offer to tell you things. What the fuck do you _want_ from me?"

The words flew out before Bumlets could stop them. "I want you to fall in love with me!" Horrified, he clapped a hand to his mouth.

"You… _what_?" Swifty asked, looking confused for the first time since Bumlets had known him.

"Forget it," Bumlets said gruffly, jumping to his feet and walking quickly toward the door.

Swifty reached out and caught his arm, and stared intensely into his face, though Bumlets looked up at the ceiling again and refused to meet his gaze. "What do you mean by you want me to fall in love with you?" he demanded.

"Never mind," Bumlets answered, sounding pained. "Seriously, Swifty. Don't… just forget I said it. Please."

Swifty still peered into his face, and finally Bumlets caved in and stared back, trying to do so defiantly. Swifty's face melted slightly, its hardness softening. "Oh, Bumlets," he said, his voice small. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Bumlets raised his eyebrows. "How do you bring up something like that?" he said back, and Swifty cringed visibly at the recycled words. He let go of Bumlets' arm and headed back to the futon, curling up on it and holding his head with his hands. Bumlets, unsure of whether to flee or go sit down too, instead stood where he was, awkwardly.

"We really suck as best friends, don't we?" Swifty finally asked, laughing a little. "Do we actually know _anything_ about each other?"

Bumlets, reassured by the soft tone of Swifty's voice, crossed to the futon and sat in front of it, leaning back against it. "Yes, we do," he answered quietly. "I know that you were valedictorian in high school, have a little sister named Carol, love chocolate chip cookies above everything else in the world, have the coldest feet _ever_ even when you're wearing socks, and that you treat me the best out of anyone I've known in my life."

Swifty smiled, tilting his head as he leaned down and massaged Bumlets' shoulders. "And I know that you were valedictorian too, that you have an unhealthy obsession with David Bowie, are so painfully shy that you never had a best friend until we became close last year, and only become comfortable with people after knowing them for at least a month." He stopped kneading Bumlets' muscles and instead wrapped his arms around Bumlets' chest. "And I know that you're the most caring person in the universe." He leaned down and kissed Bumlets' cheek. "I _do_ love you, Bumlets."

Bumlets turned his head and kissed Swifty's arm, draped around his neck. "But… I don't just love you as my best friend, Swifty. I love you. Honestly love you."

Swifty crawled off the futon to the floor and sat on Bumlets' lap, straddling him. "Why me?" he asked softly. "I'm not good enough for that, Bummy. I'm not good enough for _you._"

Bumlets stared into his intense eyes. He licked his lips nervously. "You are, Swifty. Oh, you don't even know how much you are."

Swifty leaned forward hesitantly, his eyes locked on Bumlets'. He stopped, as if uncertain, an inch from Bumlets' face. Bumlets, breathing darkly, moved forward the rest of the way, and their lips met. Hesitant, at first. Uncertain, they pulled away.

But they didn't even have time to say anything before their lips met again. And this time, uncertainty was gone.

* * *

"Woo!" Pie Eater laid his last card on the toppling stack. "I win!"

Racetrack glared at him. "No fair, you usually suck at Uno!" He glowered at Snipeshooter, who had laid down the previous card before Pie Eater's victory. "Why'd you change the color to green, asshole?"

Snipeshooter pouted. "Because it was the only nine I had, and I didn't have any yellows!"

"You have like fifty cards in your hand! How were _none_ of them yellow?" Racetrack shouted angrily, throwing his last two cards down. "I refuse to play anymore with cheaters." He got up and stalked out of the kitchen.

"Just because you lost doesn't mean everyone else is cheating!" Pie Eater yelled after him, then he turned and shrugged and, beaming, began picking up the cards. "First time I've ever beaten Race at cards!"

Snipeshooter nodded as he put down his two full handfuls of cards. "Of course, it _is_ a game for like third graders, since you wouldn't play any real games like poker or nothing," he answered.

Pie Eater merely stared at him. "You know, you're the one with like three million cards left, _not_ me." Grabbing his three decks of Uno cards, he left the kitchen as well.

Chocolate was reclining backwards in a chair, leaning it precariously back against the wall, nibbling on a piece of bread. He had been the sole spectator/cheerleader for the card game. Now he looked intently at Snipeshooter, tilting his head. "Ya know, it's kinda weird how everyone seems to get annoyed by you, and yet you were voted into this frat." He ate the top crust thoughtfully. "Did you hide your annoyingness while you were a pledge? Because I don't remember you being like this last semester."

Snipeshooter grinned. "Sure did!" He beamed. "Plus I'm Cowboy's second cousin once removed or something, so he would've been in tons of trouble if he didn't let me in."

"Oh… well, then. I think on that note, it's time for me to go… make fun of my roommate or something."

"Can I come along?" Snipeshooter chirped, hopping to his feet.

Chocolate eyed him. "Don't you have your own roommate to go make fun of somewhere?"

Snipeshooter shook his head. "He's mean. He's taken to kicking me every time I talk to him."

"That sucks," Chocolate said, though in his mind he thought this was a pretty suitable punishment for Snipeshooter opening his mouth. He headed out of the kitchen into the living room, hoping Snipeshooter would stay behind. The younger boy did not quite seem to catch the hint and followed close on his heels.

Luckily, he did not need to worry about trying to lose Snipeshooter, for as they crossed the living room, they were suddenly halted by a grinning, shirtless Cowboy who leaped halfway down the stairs in one solid jump and stood, beaming, in front of them.

Chocolate stared at him for a moment, then his mouth dropped open. "Is it—" he started to ask.

"_Squirrel Hunt_!" Cowboy screamed back, throwing back his head, grabbing his cowboy hat off his head and swinging it around his head as he shouted a "yee-haw!" for good measure.

Snipeshooter's eyes went as wide as plates. "My first Squirrel Hunt?" he gaped.

Chocolate was pulling off his shirt, then he ran up the stairs past Cowboy. "Squirrel Hunt!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. From various bedrooms, the call was returned to him: "Squirrel Hunt!" was soon echoing throughout the small frat house, bouncing from room to room and clanging out the windows. Chocolate charged into his room to find Bumlets already shirtless, and struggling with a safety pin, a towel, and the back of his jeans. He looked up at Chocolate.

"Help me!" he said, nearly bouncing in excitement. "Will you pin on my tail?"

Chocolate did as was requested, pinning Bumlets' sea foam green towel to the middle of the ass of his jeans. He then turned around after grabbing his own cream-colored towel, and Bumlets pinned his "tail" on him as well. Then the two of them ran out of their room, sliding into Mush and Pie Eater, who were just emerging from their room across the hall, equally shirtless. Mush had a cerulean tail, obviously a high-quality terrycloth towel, and Pie Eater's was yellow with Spongebob Squarepants' face in the middle of it.

The boys who weren't already downstairs screeching and crowing at the top of their lungs quickly ran down the stairs to join the group that was. When Cowboy was assured that every member of the frat (including Boots and Grouch, who he had called shortly after deciding upon the Squirrel Hunt) had gathered, he held up a plastic headband. Immediately the group of boys fell silent, except Snipeshooter, who let out an excited squeak. Snoddy stepped on his foot, though, and he grew quiet too.

"In honor of the first beautiful day of spring," Cowboy said in a solemn voice, "And in the tradition of twenty-seven years of Lambda brothers before us… I proclaim that today be the Squirrel Hunt of 2005." He grabbed his cowboy hat and pushed it backwards off his head, letting it fall down his back, the string catching around his throat. Then he took the cheap plastic headband, which had two furry "squirrel's ears" attached to it, and put it on his head. "_Squirrel Hunt!"_

The battle cry was repeated, and Cowboy took off, sprinting out the front door into the early spring sunshine. The rest of the boys screamed at the good fortune of their favorite day finally arriving and took off after him.

With towel tails flapping in the breeze and goosebumps rising all over their bare flesh from the waist up, the members of Lambda Delta Lambda made quite a spectacle of themselves as they ran through campus in a single file line, screaming "Squirrel Hunt!" about every two seconds. Every time Cowboy would see a squirrel off the path, he would run toward it, following it until he spotted a different one, or the one in question ran up a tree. The only rules of Squirrel Hunt were that nobody could climb a tree or get out of the single-file line, and the president (with mandatory headband firmly in place) could lead the Squirrel Hunt as long as he wanted to. Crutchy's oldest brother held the record for the longest Squirrel Hunt, as he had kept the fraternity at the exhausting, yet exhilarating, display through an entire night – eight hours in all.

The rest of the students around campus pointed and laughed. The Lambda Squirrel Hunt was known statewide as the best show of spring spirit. Brothers had been known to pledge Lambda merely for the Squirrel Hunt. It came once a year, and as people already out on campus began to realize what was going on, they started calling their friends to make sure nobody missed seeing it happen. After five minutes of Squirrel Hunting, lawn chairs were already set out in front of dorms, and people sat around eating popcorn and waiting for the Squirrel Hunters to run past them and make spring start.

Which they did. Loudly. Grinning, they kept up their rate of shouting "Squirrel Hunt!" as they tried hard to keep their breath. After an hour and a half, Dutchy – who, as a senior who wasn't president, had elected himself to be the end of the group, suddenly shouted, "Tail grab!" and reached forward, grabbing Swifty's towel, which was bouncing just in front of him. Swifty reached forward to grab Bumlets', and Bumlets grabbed Crutchy's, and so it went on up to Mush grabbing Cowboy's. Now a linked chain, the boys all began running in step, to make sure they didn't kill each other by tripping over each other's feet. Dutchy started the call. "Left, Squirrel Hunt, right! Left, Squirrel Hunt, right!" Falling into the pace easily, the boys all ran together, though it took Snipeshooter a little bit to figure out that just because neither "right" nor "left" was said during the words "Squirrel Hunt," he still had to move first the right leg on "squirrel" and then the left on "hunt."

Cowboy couldn't have picked a more beautiful day. The snow had all melted, and the sun was beating down happily. The boys were cheered on by classmates every time they rounded a new corner, or ran past another building – most of which structures had students hanging out of windows or lined up in front. As was customary for the Squirrel Hunt, no actual squirrels were caught, and the boys slowed to a nearly crawling pace by the time Cowboy finally led them back to their house and took off the headband. The Squirrel Hunt had lasted four hours and thirty-eight minutes, according to David and his stopwatch.

The boys crowded into the kitchen, grabbing water bottles and any item of food they could reach. They then sprawled around the living room, joking and laughing and grabbing each other's towels. They spent half an hour just recovering, with only members of the frat in the room, enjoying the company of just their fellow brothers. Squirrel Hunt Day was one like no other; it was the day that belonged exclusively to them. Mush looked around the room and had to laugh at the sight of so many shirtless boys with towels pinned to their asses. Squirrel Hunt day didn't make sense to him, but he loved his brothers for doing it.

Seeing all of his brothers and loving their ridiculousness, he nonetheless missed a certain person he was already getting used to be being around. Sidling toward the stairs while Dutchy and Specs told a two-person, well-rehearsed, oft-told joke – a routine they had debuted while freshmen, he smiled as he slipped inconspicuously away. He was well aware of his dependency, but he just felt the need to hear from Skittery. Sure enough, his AIM icon was jumping off its place on the dock on his computer screen. The message from Skittery read, 'You were the hottest shirtless Squirrel Hunter of them all, what with that big fuzzy blue tail and all… have fun with your brothers tonight, and give me a call tomorrow. You're far too adorable for words. And no one has ever made me say that before, so feel special."

An explosion of laughter from downstairs made Mush turn to look at the door. Smiling, he closed the AIM window and headed back downstairs.

His Squirrelly brothers were waiting. And Skittery would still be here tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that. It was a comforting thought. And he liked that he didn't have to think twice about bouncing back down the stairs to indulge in Squirrel Hunting behavior for a few more hours.

He looked around when he reached the bottom of the stairs. Everyone had decided to sprawl across the living room floor, most lying on top of some people and under others. Cowboy's head was lying on Chocolate's legs, and David's curls were spread unceremoniously across Cowboy's chest, while Pie Eater and Snoddy lay side-by-side with their heads resting on David's arm. The boys snaked in this manner all across the room, comfortable and relaxed. They were all joking and laughing and bringing up old memories of frat days gone by. Snipeshooter, who didn't have very many frat memories yet, kept trying to remind them of funny things that had happened at the lip synching concert.

"Remember when Bumlets was in drag and actually looked like a _real_ girl?"

"Shut up," Bumlets warned. Swifty laughed and tousled his hair. Bumlets grinned up at him bashfully.

"And remember when Swifty kissed Dutchy _and_ Specs?" Snipeshooter continued. Swifty's hand froze mid-tousle.

"Shut up," he said.

"And remember when David got up—"

This time, everyone else, who had been rather happy to forget the memory of David singing All 4 One, all shouted in unison, "_Shut up!_"

"Geez," Snipeshooter grumbled. "It's not fair, just cuz I'm young—"

Suddenly the front door slammed open. Everyone jumped, then laughed at themselves. Mush, who had just cuddled between David and Bumlets, called out, "Cowboy, aren't you supposed to get that damn door… fixed…" He trailed off as he raised his head to see who was standing in the open door. "Oh, God."

Kid Blink smiled sarcastically at him. "No, but close." He had his arms crossed heavily over his chest, and his eye was glaring to the point of such extremity that it seemed a mere slit. "Cowboy. My man." He stepped over boys until reaching the president. Shoving David out of the way, he sat down on Cowboy's stomach. "Tell me, if you would be so kind, what my relationship to this frat is."

Cowboy stared at him, then rolled his eyes. "Social member," he answered, in a voice meant for six-year olds. "You're our one and only social member, Blink. Now get off me—"

"Exactly," Kid Blink said, raising his voice to drown out Cowboy and remaining sitting right where he was. "The part of that title that I'm concerned with happens to be the 'member' part. Because, you see, as a _member_ of this frat, I am supposed to be called for functions. Now, I can deal with not being allowed to karaoke. I hate singing anyway."

"No, you don't," Snipeshooter answered. "You—" Snoddy elbowed him in the stomach to make him be quiet.

Kid Blink ignored him. "But not inviting me to _Squirrel Hunt_?" He looked disgruntled. "Jesus, Cowboy. That's fucking _cold_."

"I just thought… you know. You and Mush," Cowboy said. "I thought it'd be weird."

"Breaking up with Mush does not mean that I broke up with the whole damn frat!" Kid Blink shouted back. "Goddamn!" He stood up off of Cowboy, a disgruntled frown covering his face. "You're such a jackass." Glaring around at everyone, he shook his head. "I don't care. I want out of this frat. You guys are all just… assholes. I hate all of you."

Mush untangled himself from Bumlets and David and stood up. "Logan, we gotta go talk."

Kid Blink stared at him. "Why the fuck would I want to talk with you?"

"Come on," Mush said, heaving a great sigh. "Let's go for a walk."

Without another word, Mush broke up the Squirrel Hunt party by taking Kid Blink by the arm and leading him out the front door. The rest of the brothers wandered upstairs and drifted apart into separate rooms. It was the first Squirrel Hunt Day that had not ended a complete (and drunken) success.

Mush and Kid Blink walked together in silence for five whole minutes, each too upset to speak to the other. "I hate this," Mush finally burst out.

"Hate what." Kid Blink wouldn't even give him the satisfaction of making him ask a question, so he instead made his statement a fact.

Mush looked over and sighed. "I hate you hating me, Logan."

"Yeah. Well. Maybe you shouldn't have slept with fucking Skittery then," Kid Blink snapped back. "How could I do anything _but_ hate you, Micah?"

Mush fell back into silence, but a much shorter one. He tried to bite back a smile, but it shone through anyway. "It's nice hearing you call me Micah again."

"What, _he_ doesn't call you Micah?" Kid Blink sneered back.

Mush stopped and sat down on a bench along the main path through campus. Kid Blink had no choice but to sit next to him. "I'm sorry I hurt you, Logan. Really, I am. But you know as well as I do that we were just holding on for no reason other than… familiarity."

Kid Blink shook his head violently. "That isn't true, Micah. It isn't and you goddamn know it."

Mush turned and stared at him. "Oh, but Logan, it's completely true. We held on to each other because we were too scared of what would happen if we broke up. We needed each other in high school. I don't deny that, and I don't deny the wonderful impact you had on my life. High school without you would have been absolute _hell_. Whatever those homophobic pricks did to us would have been five times worse had you not been there to comfort me afterwards. It was okay, because we had someone else to hold our hand and we felt safe. And we've always been each other's safety nets. When we came to college and decided we were going to be out on campus, we needed each other then too, to make ourselves comfortable. But now we can be comfortable without each other. Everyone in the frat accepts us, and lots of people on campus do too." Mush shrugged. "We just aren't martyrs to even ourselves anymore, Logan. We don't need each other, because there are others here who understand us too. We aren't the only two anymore. And we owe it to ourselves not to just… hold on for the sake of holding on." Kid Blink seemed to be calming down as he listened to Mush talk. "I love what we had together, Logan. I look back with nothing but… happiness and good memories and all that shit." A brief smile appeared on Kid Blink's face. "But honestly, I think of you like… my older brother. My protector. The one who beats up the bullies on the playground for me." He looked over at Kid Blink. "And, seriously, it's just not hot to fuck your brother."

Kid Blink looked back at him. "But I miss you," he said softly.

Mush leaned over and hugged him, kissing his cheek. "I bet you don't miss my smelly feet," he countered.

Kid Blink laughed. "No. No, that I don't miss. Or your annoying habit of singing Elton John songs first thing when you wake up on weekday mornings while jumping on your bed. While I'm trying to sleep in it."

Mush laughed. "Bet you don't miss my _Queer Eye _obsession. Or my fascination with Goldfish crackers. Or my collection of Japanese gay porn."

"Actually, I miss that porn most of all," Kid Blink answered, grinning. He shrugged a little. "Micah, doesn't it mean … a lot to you that I know all of these things about you? I mean, Skittery doesn't know all these things, does he? Doesn't that say something about who you should be with?"

Mush let him out of the hug and smiled at him. "No, he doesn't know most of those things about me. But he will." Kid Blink nodded, resigned. "…I do miss you, though. And I wish we could still be friends and talk and hang out and stuff."

"I do too," Kid Blink answered. "Just not yet. I need time… you know. We've been through a lot together."

Mush nodded, pulling him close again. "I know," he answered. "But now you've gotta let me and Skittery get through a lot together."

Kid Blink stared at him for a long minute, than nodded. "I know. And I'm really gonna try, from now on. Micah Meyers, I will _force_ myself to get over you."

"Wahoo!" Mush shouted back, standing up on the bench and pulling Kid Blink up with him. "…Thanks, Kid."

Kid Blink smiled back. "You're welcome… Mush."

* * *

**Shoutouts!**

**Omni**: Yes, all mentions of gratuitous Racetrack in leather are written STRICTLY for you, darling. I adore you so! And coherency is WAY overrated. :D

**Charlie Bird**: Yes. Supercheesetastic!Skush is cute, and tux!pieddy is adorable. And bondage!sprace just makes me laugh far too much. Thanks for that lovely seal of approval, I'll keep it in my back pocket always. Or… something. Yes.

**Flashing lights aka studentnumber24601**: Well. A "grumble" and a caps lock yelling are far less than I expect for this story from you, so … I'll take it! Aha. Thanks for still reading dear, even though you hate the story. Sigh.

**Frogger No Baka**: Oh darling, you are good. And I am no good, so even if you wrote like a five year old on crack you'd be better than me aha. And I'm glad psycho is good. Er. Thanks: Haha j/j, love you DEARLY.

**Strawberri Shake**: Ooh, how much are you willing to pay? ;) BWAHA I love Swisputchy. Even if Swifty has stopped cooperating. Still. And I adore Javid fluff. For someone so smart, he doesn't catch on to … anything. Skush is the best! But stalking is not. Bad Blink. Luckily it all is working out. Ish. :D

**Stage**: Yay! He's back! And yes, yay hardcore for Meat Loaf! Only the best power balladeer in the entire WORLD. And there is Sputchy! Just… small doses. O.o

**Queen Kez the Wicked:** Again, why are you the only person who also picks up on my favorite parts of chapters? You're the only one to comment on the faux-sexual language between Pie Eater and Snoddy. When it was done so intentionally on my part. It makes me sad. And I am anything BUT unpredictable. Aha!

**Buttons14**: I'm scared of bugs. Not as much as Pie is, but I still am rather afraid of bugs. But only bugs inside. Bugs outside are okay, because that's where they belong. Yes. Congrats for getting through the famine, the longest famine I ever did was 24 hours and that was hell in a hand basket. Hee, I kinda went on an updating spree, but now break's over so it takes much longer to churn out chapters. So you'll have plenty of time. :D

**Sita-Chan**: I LOVE YOUUU AND YOU ARE THE BEST. And I –like- usher!crutchy. He makes me giggle insanely.

* * *

AN: This chapter (however belated) is for the birthday of SITA MISS WONDERFUL GODDESS OF THE WORLD. I adore her sooooooo much! Happy birthday, darling!


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